


Snow 3: To Trap A Tiger

by delphia2000



Series: The Snow Series [3]
Category: Kung Fu: The Legend Continues
Genre: AU, F/M, sequel to Snow & Snow in the City
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-09
Updated: 2010-04-15
Packaged: 2017-10-08 19:58:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 51,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/78997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delphia2000/pseuds/delphia2000





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1   
"No way am I going back to the slammer!" shouted the perp as he swung wildly with a heavy-handed right that caught Kermit square on the nose.

Kermit should have been able to duck right under it, since the man stood head and shoulders taller than him. But, up to this point, the man had been calm and the outburst was as sudden as it was passionate.

The blow put him almost over the table, on his back, as the man bolted for the door of the interrogation room. He rolled and righted himself to follow. It wasn't hard to see where the giant had gone as he'd left a row of toppled people in his wake.  
Bobby 'Boy Toy' Wilson had just been brought in for questioning regarding the string of sexual assaults on minor boys, all of whom had been newspaper delivery boys. Wilson's pedophile convictions had popped up on Kermit's computer search and it was found that the first assault had occurred just days after Wilson's latest release from jail. Coupled with Wilson's new job at one of the local newspapers, it had been enough to at least bring him in for questioning.

Kermit almost caught up with Wilson at the top of the stairs, but the man made a leap over Broderick's desk and then blundered into the bullpen. Kermit took the path of least resistance, right past all the people who had ducked out of Wilson's way, over Broderick's desk. "Whoa, where do you think you're going?" asked Jody as she dropped her phone receiver and rose to grapple with the perp who had fallen onto her desk.

"Lemme go!" screamed Wilson, shoving her with all his might, right into Blake who cushioned her from a nasty fall on the edge of his desk.

"Stop, Wilson. You're only making it worse on yourself," Kermit ordered as he grabbed the giant by the arm and slung him into the nearest wall with a resounding thump.

Applying his favorite choke-hold, he whipped out the Desert Eagle and shoved the end of the barrel against the man's nose. "Now, if you're really sure you don't want to risk jail time, I can alleviate your worries by sending you to the morgue instead," he snarled into the man's face. "You prefer that or would you like to speak to your lawyer?"

The man could hardly get out an answer as his windpipe was being slightly crushed by a surprisingly powerful arm. "Y....yes!"

"Yes, what?"

Wilson whimpered, "Yes, my lawyer. Please. Sir."

"That's enough, Kermit," Strenlich ordered as he snapped cuffs on one of Wilson's wrists. "We'll take it from here. Go wipe your nose."

Kermit backed off to let Frank and a uniformed cop finish cuffing Wilson. Realizing how much his nose hurt, he took a gentle swipe of it with the back of the hand that still held the big gun. Blood smeared across his hand onto his cuff. He glanced down at the front of his shirt where more blood was spattered. "Damn it! Look what that pervert did to my tie!" he moaned, shoving the gun roughly back in its usual place.

Jody handed him a handful of Kleenex from the box on her desk. "The tie is red, Kermit. It doesn't show. How's the nose?"

He prodded it gently as he mopped up blood. "Doesn't feel broken," he mumbled through the Kleenex.

"That's lucky. Could hardly miss that target, now could he?" Blake teased him, ignoring the green glass glare his comment earned him.

"Hey, Kermit?"

It was Broderick calling from the front desk. Kermit wasn't much in the mood for what he was sure would be more razzing from the Sergeant whom he'd practically jumped over just minutes before. "What?" he snapped, as he turned.

"These people would like to speak with you."

Broderick indicated an older couple standing back from his desk a bit. They'd been in the way when Kermit had come crashing through, following the fleeing perp and he groaned inwardly. They probably wanted an apology for being slightly trampled. Damn. He wasn't much in the mood for diplomacy at the moment. He gritted his teeth and walked toward them, this time coming around the desk instead of over it. "Look, I'm sorry...."

The woman burst into tears. "Oh my God, no! Not him!"

Then she whirled with a swirl of ethnic clothing and jingly jewelry and strode from the room.

The man just stood there with his mouth open. He was perhaps 60-ish and dressed casually in an open necked loose shirt, vest and rather baggy jeans, reminding Kermit somewhat of Kwai Chang Caine. Except this man didn't have Caine's calm demeanor. The man was fairly agitated, almost gasping for breath. "So you're Detective Kermit Griffin?"

"Yes, and you are...?"

"Free. Free Murdoch. Apparently, I'm your new father-in-law. At least until Star gets a hold of our daughter. Then, I think, all bets are off."

Oh, shit, thought Kermit.

"Excuse me, I think Star needs me and this appears to be a bad time for introductions. Perhaps we might be seeing you later this evening," the man told him as he backed for the door. "Then again, maybe not. Good day, Detective."

Kermit leaned back against the wall, seeking solace by blurting out a single word of extreme profanity.

"Nothing like making a good first impression," Jody grinned at him, handing him more Kleenex. "Come on, cowboy. I'll get you some ice for that nose. Unless you'd just rather stick that big gun in your mouth and get it over with quick?"

"Thanks a lot," he muttered, letting her steer him toward the little kitchenette down the hall where the refrigerator was.

"That's what friends are for."

*******************************************

"He's a pig. A flat-foot, gun-toting, Establishment boot-licking pig!"

Star was pacing the length of the living room, her soft, cotton clothing making gentle swishing noises that complimented the dainty tinkle of her jewelry as she ranted and raved. The patchouli scent she habitually wore mingled with the subtle flowery odor of the chamomile tea Snow had brewed for them. Bare feet padded softly on the hardwood floor. She paused in front of her daughter and stamped her foot. "We raised you better than this!"

Snow practically swallowed her tongue in an effort to keep from laughing. The thought of her husband licking anyone's boot was a mental image too funny to even contemplate and her mother's little snit was more amusing than anything else. "Mom. Kermit wouldn't lick boots, I promise you. In fact, that's probably what got him tossed out of the CIA."

"CIA?" her father exclaimed, exchanging a look with Star. "This is worse than we thought."

"Is CIA worse than being a mercenary?" Snow asked in an innocent tone as she reached for her cup of tea.

Star groaned and grabbed her head. She sat down on the overstuffed leather couch, next to her mate, bent over between her knees as if trying to keep from fainting. "God help me. I think my head is going to explode. You talk some sense into your daughter!" she begged.

Snow cut in before her father could start. "Stop right now, both of you. I think I've heard enough. I accept that you aren't happy, but it's too late. I'm married. I made a commitment. It's a done deal. You don't have to like it, but this man is part of my life. Now you can learn to get along with him, or you can cut me off like Grampa and Nana Newman and Grandma Murdoch did to you when you two got married. It's up to you to do what you think is best for you."

Her parents looked at each other for a few moments before her father began to speak. "I can understand how you think this situation is similar to what we faced. But, Snowbaby, we were young and in love and we knew we were made for each other. Your mother and I are soul mates. This man is the direct opposite of everything you've been raised to value."

"How do you know that, Dad? You don't even know him. You're judging him by what you think he does for a living."

Free shook his head. "My God, Snow, we saw what he's like. He practically killed that poor man. That barbarian is nothing but a bloodthirsty, legalized thug. I've faced his type before."

"You were just seeing the surface, Dad. Kermit called me right after you saw him. That 'poor man' was there because he's been preying on innocent children. He's a rapist. And the only blood spilled was Kermit's. Besides, since when do you use terms like 'his type'? You never taught me prejudice, Daddy, but you did teach me to think for myself."

"We're just trying to make you think a little harder, sweetie," her mother put in.

"No, you aren't. You're trying to make me do what you want me to do. And it's not particularly amusing coming from someone who named himself Free," Snow commented, looking pointedly at her father whom she knew she could manipulate easier than her mother. "I am married to Kermit. I took his name, too. You know I had to be serious to take a step like that. He's more than what he appears to be. Please, give him a chance. You didn't back down when Gramps threatened to cut you off for marrying Mom."

"Well," her father said, looking very uncomfortable, "you know, things were a little different for us, baby. We didn't exactly go the same route as you did. I know we've let you think things were the way they were while you were growing up..."

"Daddy, what are you talking about? I'm totally lost here," Snow asked.

"Oh, for heavens sake, Free. Snow, we aren't married. Not legally anyway. Not exactly."

Snow sat up, shocked. "What do you mean, not married? Of course, you're...aren't you?"

"Sort of," was her father's terse explanation.

"Sort of. Like being sort of pregnant? Come on, are you or are you not married?"

"We never stood up in front of any preacher or signed any papers if that's what you call married," Star informed her. "At the time we moved to Alaska, it was still a territory--the frontier. They recognized common law marriages. If you lived together for 7 years, you were considered married in the eyes of the territory. So, technically, we're married. Sort of."

"Your mother and I are together because we want to be," her father interjected, "Not because of any piece of paper. We've always been able to exercise our option of freedom from each other if we chose, without the government's interference. We made our vows to each other, not to a bureaucracy."

"Just because I signed papers doesn't make my commitment any less. I love him, Dad. As for being a soul mate, I don't know about that. But I do know that Ping Hai thinks Kermit is linked to the other half of the Gryphon Pendant he gave me."

Star straightened up with a shocked expression on her face. "Ping Hai? The apothecary?"

"He calls himself Lo Si now. Most of the community just calls him The Ancient. He's here, in Chinatown, and I've been studying with him again. He thinks Kermit and I have some destiny together; that he's the Yang to my Yin."

"Oh, no. This is terrible. The Runes were right," whispered her mother as if she could hardly speak.

"Now, Star, take it easy. We don't know that," Free comforted her, his arm around her.

"Mom, have you been listening to Zed again?" asked Snow disgustedly, "That old goat is a fraud and you know it. He's about as Viking as Hagan Daz ice cream. The closest he's ever been to Scandinavian mysticism is an ABBA album."

"The Runes speak to him," her mother insisted. "He told me when you were born that you were special and he knew when you left college to open the lodge that it was the safe path for you. If you had stayed in the city, it would have been disaster. Now you're back and that fate is still here waiting for you!"

"Maybe he was just seeing Kermit," Snow laughed.

"I'm afraid if what Old Ping Hai told you about the pendants were true, then Kermit isn't the disaster. He's probably what's standing between you and that fate," Free said slowly as if speaking his thoughts aloud.

"Then perhaps you'd better cultivate him," Snow remarked. "Prepare yourselves. He's home. And, may I remind you, this is his home. If he decides to throw you out of it, I can't do a thing for you."

Giving them both a meaningful look, she stood up as Radar burst through her pet door from the yard and raced through the house to wait at the front door. In Snow's case, it was the security monitor's blinking red light that told her the front gates had opened, but Radar's sharp ears had heard the Corvair. Seconds later, they all heard the knocking cough of the vehicle as it pulled up out front. "He needs to get that looked at," mused Snow aloud, "It's beginning to sound like a production of Riverdance."

Moments later, he strolled into the house carrying his bloodied shirt and tie. Luckily, he kept a change of clothing in his office. "Hi, Handsome," Snow greeted him at the door with a kiss as she took the garments from him. "You're early."

He squeezed her and ruffled Radar's ears at the same time. "Wanted to see if we were still married or has the People's Popular Front gotten it annulled yet?"

He was grinning at her and she giggled in relief. At least he wasn't letting it get to him. "You're not getting off the hook that easy."

They strolled into the living room, arm in arm, to confront her parents. "I won't bother with formal introductions since you've pretty much met already," Snow informed them. "I need to get these into some of that enzyme cleaner if I'm going save this tie. Why don't you all get better acquainted? Oh, and Kermit, my dad's been doing Tai Chi for years. If he were pressed, think he could take you."

She was grinning over her shoulder as she traipsed out of the room.

Kermit took the offensive immediately. "What you saw today was me doing my job. It's not always pretty, but it is necessary. Unless you approve of adults freely choosing to violate children, that is?"

Free answered. "Of course we don't approve of that. It just seemed that a bit more...restraint could have been used."

Kermit sat down in his favorite chair across from where Star and Free sat rigidly on the couch. Radar was still at his knees and plopped one great paw into his lap in a bid for more attention. "My nose and I both agree," Kermit commented as he roughly stroked and patted the great wolf. "Unfortunately, Mr. Wilson has a problem with restraint. He can't seem to restrain himself from abusing little boys and he couldn't restrain himself from trying to flee justice. Not that those boys will ever really see any true justice. But it's the best we can do for them and for all the little boys he hasn't put his hands on yet."

"We were referring to you," Star told him coldly.

"I was using a great deal of restraint. Were it up to me, I'd have shot him on sight. I don't like adults who harm children. I guess we'll have to agree to disagree on how I should do my job. But I think it would be prudent for us to agree that we all want what is best for Snow. You may not like the way she chooses to live her life, but certainly, you can respect that she's an adult who can make her own choices?"

"We can agree on those points...Kermit," Free told him. "Happiness is all we've ever wished for our daughter."

"You can see she's happy here. And thank you for resisting the impulse to call me son."

"I'll die before I'll call you that," Star hissed at him. "I can't see myself ever liking you, but for my daughter's sake, I will tolerate you. We think she may be in some danger here in the city and it seems you are certainly capable of protecting her."

"Danger? From what?" Kermit asked uneasily.

Star looked to her mate to take over the conversation, as if she feared whatever she said would be dismissed. "You seem to be a very down-to-earth person, Kermit," Free commented. "Detectives would probably prefer to deal with empirical evidence, I'm sure. All we have to go on are clues given to us through non-conventional sources. But we do believe the danger to our daughter to be real. Please, at least respect our concern."

"'There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.' Hamlet," Kermit intoned. "I've seen too much to let my judgment be impaired by pure logic. If you could perhaps elaborate?"

Star butted in, "I had a Viking friend of ours read the Runes after a card reading seemed inconclusive when Snow was born. It told us first that Snow was special and that she would have an extra-sensory gift. And then it told us that when she reached her maturity, she'd be threatened by great danger. While the Runes don't necessarily describe that danger, it did seem to indicate it would be in the city. That's why we were pleased that Snow chose her life back in Alaska, away from any big cities."

"No other indication as to what this danger could be?"

Free shook his head.

Kermit sighed. "Did Snow tell you about her first week here?"

"Other than she had severe problems controlling her gift, not much. Why?"

"Because she may have already faced that danger. And come through it fine."

"What happened?" asked Star anxiously.

"Nothing we couldn't handle. Suffice to say, she is well protected now and if that was the danger that was foreseen, it's over and done with."

Star didn't look too happy, "I don't suppose you'd care to elaborate?"

"No. But if you get anymore information about this danger, regardless of the source, I'm interested in knowing about it."

Star stood up, hands on hips and with a look Kermit had seen on feral animals before; females protecting their young. "Fine. I can find out on my own. But understand this, anything happens to my daughter and you'll answer to me."

Kermit stood up with a rueful grin on his face. "Say no more, lady. I'd rather face the IRS than have you ticked off at me. As long as we know where we stand. I see where Snow gets her temper."

He got the feeling his father-in-law was covering a laugh by choking on his tea.

Snow came back into the room with Alpha, the white cat perched on her shoulder and Omega, the black tom trotting behind. She noted her mother's stance and Kermit's mirrored position. "No blood flowing?" she quipped cheerfully.

"We understand one another," Kermit told her as he slipped an arm around her.

Alpha rubbed up against his cheek for a second before nipping his ear, making him wince and Snow giggle. "Ouch! Hey, I've had as much abuse as I'm going to take today, cat. You're inches from being guitar strings, so knock that off," he growled at the animal as he took it from Snow's shoulder to drop on the floor.

Both cats bounded away with the wolf following like a shepherd after his flock.

"So, what's for dinner?" Kermit asked.

"Anything but meat," she informed him.

"Bloody hell, more carrot munchers," he mumbled in her ear, then suggested louder, "Well, in that case, let's go out to Wings. Then we can take your parents on a lovely stroll through scenic Chinatown after dinner."

**********************

It was late that night, as they snuggled together, Snow whispered to him, "Thanks for being such a peach about my folks. They don't exactly hate you, you know."

He was running a gentle finger over her lips as she spoke. "Yes, they do. I'm just an Establishment Pig to them. But as long as they don't have you kidnapped and try to de-program you, I can get along with them," he assured her, "However, if they try to take you away from me, it's going to get ugly. I don't want to do this to you, but you might have to make a choice."

She reached for his left hand and gave his ring a tiny tweak. "Already did."

It was almost too dark to see the small smile on his face but she knew it was there.

"Good. So, are you the kind of daughter who's too shy to make love to her husband when her parents are in the same house?"

She laughed, "Raised in communal beds, remember? All kinds of sex went on in front of me. Even between my folks."

"You're kidding?" came his appalled response.

"Nope. It was gross. Let's be loud. I owe them one."

"In that case, prepare for some passionate screaming."

"You or me?"

"Both."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Jody took a deep breath to calm herself and drank in the exotic scents of the flowers that bloomed around her in Peter's solarium. Adopting a manner she didn't exactly feel, she called out to him boldly, "You've got one minute, Caine, and then I'm leaving. I hate missing the previews before the movie. What's taking you anyway?"

He appeared in the doorway, dressed in his familiar jeans and a refined plaid shirt, jacket in hand. "It's the hair. Has to be perfect. If I don't get it just right, no one respects me; women overlook me; the dry cleaners put my stuff on the bottom of the pile. Besides, I know my hair is the real reason you agreed to be seen in public with me tonight."

"Yeah, well it's plenty dark in the Rialto Theater so I'm not all that concerned about my reputation."

He gave her an enigmatic smile, so like his father, yet subtly, sexily all Peter as if he could read her mind. Her heart quickened. Hell, he probably could read her mind. Not that he needed to. She'd been waiting for this night for a very, very long time.

They'd spent time together in the last few months as friends, meeting for lunches or dinners or private walks and talks but they hadn't been dates. Not like this. He'd asked her the way she'd heard him ask other women. "Would you like to go see a movie with me Friday night?"

Seeing a matinee was a couple of friends seeing a movie together. Friday night seeing a movie, that was a date. At least, it felt like a date to her stomach which was filled with cut-glass butterflies beating their wings frantically against several very large, lead balloons. He held out one hand to her and she felt her heart jam itself up against her throat.  
"You say that now, but if I showed up with a Shaolin shave, you'd want me to wear a hat."

She took his hand and let him pull her close to his side. "True, but only to keep your head warm. Even priests can catch a cold."

Hazel eyes glinted with amusement. He smelled divine; something spicy but understated. "I'm remarkably healthy these days. Comes from a tranquil spirit."

"You? Tranquil? That's a first."

He laughed gently, still holding her close in a comfortable, companionable way. "Yes, it is. But I'm more at peace than I've ever been before, Jody. Even missing my father, I'm still content with this path I've chosen. It's never felt more right to me than it does now."

"Any way you could bottle that? It would sell like hotcakes and I could use a couple of bottles myself."

He looked sober for a second, "Work?"

She sighed and took the opportunity to lean her head on his shoulder. "What else? I have no personal life except for you."

It slipped out before she had a chance to realize how it would sound. She glanced over to see him frown slightly. "Jody, I told you I can't be a crutch for you," he chastised gently. "When was your last vacation?"

She pulled away from him hoping that she could show him she was feeling fine and that she could stand on her own two feet. "It's been a while. I'm overdue," she admitted as she wandered over to sniff at a nearby herb plant, bruising the leaf slightly with her fingers to bring out the scent. "But if I take time off, my mother will expect me to go home and last Christmas when I was there, all she wanted to do was to talk about Kira..."

Her voice trailed off. Damn, damn, damn! she thought to herself. Put my foot in it again. "I'm sorry. Didn't mean to bring up...bad memories..."

She turned to face Peter, expecting to find him chewing his lip, lost in a guilt trip but instead his face was serene. "You didn't. I've kept only the good memories of her. Maybe you should go home and talk with your mom about her. Might do you both some good," he suggested.

"I'm all talked out on that subject," Jody insisted. "I've made my peace with Kira."

"You were alienated when she was killed."

Jody shrugged. "Twins do that. We needed the separation at that time, Peter. We'd been competing too much and she was winning and all I could feel at the time was resentment. She got that promotion, a new apartment, a hunky boyfriend."  
She gave Peter a warning look that said, 'don't get a swelled head, hunky,' before continuing, "She had everything I wanted. I think now that maybe it was because she had to fit everything into a shorter life than I did."

"You never got to say goodbye to her or to tell her you were sorry, though."

He sounded like the head doctor she'd been ordered to see after Kira's death. Her commanding officer thought it was a good idea so she did as she was ordered, but she hadn't really needed it. "Actually, I did. You know, things are different for twins, Peter. When she died, a part of me died with her. But a part of her lives on in me. I talk to her all the time. She doesn't hold up her end of the conversation as well anymore, but it doesn't matter to me because I'm certain she hears me. I knew her better than anyone else; I'm certain I know what she'd be saying if she could. You know, Shaolins aren't the only ones with a strong belief system."

He gave her a slightly chagrined look, but she could read the pleasure in his eyes and felt a swell of pride in finally saying the right thing for a change. He came to her this time and held her face as he told her, "You two looked alike and shared many of the same wonderful qualities, but you, Jody Powell, are totally unique."

Then, he kissed her and it was glorious.

"Master Caine! Master!"

She might have known something was going to come along to spoil it. Wah Chen's voice echoed up the hallway followed by a spate of Chinese, both the boy's familiar tones and a shriller, more feminine voice.

Peter backed away only slightly, still holding on to her. "In here, Chen," he called to his new student.

The boy came to the doorway and bowed low, looking somewhat embarrassed by catching the adults in such close proximity. It occurred to Jody that by not letting her go, Peter might be subtly making a statement to the boy to expect this new closeness to their relationship. "What seems to be the problem?"

"I am sorry to disturb you, Master, but this woman insists she needs to see you immediately."

As he spoke, the boy gestured and bowed slightly to his right where a tiny and rather young woman moved into view. She was stunning, like a China doll with shiny black hair cut in a fashionable bob, but dressed in a traditional chongsam, the mandrian-collared tight dress that looked so well on young bodies. It was bright red silk brocade and cut higher up on the thigh than usual. Jody felt suddenly very old and awkwardly large in comparison. "They say 'Come to Chinatown, ask for Caine. He will help you.' I need your help, Master Caine. I need your help desperately," the woman pleaded, shakily.

Pushing her way past the boy, she prostrated herself on the floor at their feet. "Please!" she begged.

"Whoa, hey, don't do that," Peter told her as he leaned over to pull her gently to her feet. "Come in and sit down and let's talk. Chen; tea. You'd like some tea, right?"

She nodded silently, tears brimming and ready to spill over as he guided her to one of the overstuffed chairs among the greenery, discreetly moving a box of Kleenex conveniently closer. The boy turned to go, then stopped to extend his Master a respectful bow before scampering into the kitchen next door.

Peter offered the chair opposite to Jody and then sat on the arm of the chair, one arm resting on her shoulder as if to apologize for the movie they'd obviously be missing. Jody sighed. Okay, it was a great movie, but it was just a flick. No, she regretted the loss of the moment they'd been sharing. A moment they certainly wouldn't be getting back to this particular evening. Damn, another night with her hot water bottle and the neighbor's cat on her feet most likely.

Peter introduced her, "This is detective Jody Powell; before I left the police force, we were partners. She's a good friend; you can speak freely in front of her. I still trust her with my life. Now, please, tell us who you are and what kind of help you need."

The girl visibly tried to collect herself, gulping for air. Her hands were in motion constantly, smoothing her hair or twisting the pale green, jade ring on her left hand. "My name is Ahn Li. I must get away from my husband. I think he is going to kill me."

Jody sat upright, her detective instincts clicking in. "Why?"

The girl shook her head, her hands plucking at the hem of her dress in a nervous gesture. "I don't know. I think he doesn't need me anymore."

Peter asked gently, "Has he hurt you, hit you?" Ahn Li shook her head negatively. "What did he need you for then?" Jody encouraged the girl to elaborate.

"He married me to become my father's heir. When my father died, he took over our family business. The police said my father was killed by a mugger while he walked in the park, but I know that's not true. My husband killed him."

The bells went off in Jody's mind. "Jack Wong."

The girl shifted as if startled. "You know of him?"

"Yeah, we know a lot about him," Jody commented. "But not enough to put him away for good so far."

She looked up at Peter. "We were never able to prove anything. The case is still open."

"Ahn Li, how do you know Jack killed your father?" Peter questioned her. "Did you see him do it or do you have any proof."

"He told me."

"Exactly what did he tell you?" Jody pushed.

"He said he killed my father and he could do the same to me anytime he wanted and it would look like an accident."

"But he didn't tell you details? Like how or where he killed your father?"

The girl shook her head again as she reached for a tissue to wipe her eyes.

"Of course, he wouldn't. Jack isn't that stupid, whether he actually did it or not," Peter remarked, "He'd just say enough to scare you into doing what he wants. So what is it he wants?"

"I don't know," the girl wailed, "he has control of all my family's money and the business, so he no longer needs me for that. He takes me to social events. Gives me money to shop and to go to the beauty parlor so I will look well when he takes me out in public. Perhaps he thinks an obedient Chinese wife gives him respectability in the community. But I can no longer see my friends. I'm only allowed to go out when he says I can. I am a prisoner in my home."

"How did you get here?" Jody asked, curiously.

Ahn Li blew her nose. "I waited until after he had gone out. He goes to the bars to gamble and be with... other women most nights. He only leaves one man to guard me when he goes out, so I pretended to go up to bed and climbed out a window. I can't go back. He'll punish me if I do. He might be ready to kill me."

The sobbing and whining was beginning to get to Jody. The girl apparently had some backbone but not much, and there was only her word against Jack's regarding the murder. She had no bruises, no proof of abuse.

"Do you have family?" Jody asked, hoping to end this quickly.

Ahn Li nodded and answered with a swipe at her nose. "Only my mother but she does not care. She did not love my father and is happy to be rid of him. Jack gives her money and leaves her alone. She is content. If I go to her, she will call him to take me home."

"What do you want to have happen here, Ahn Li?" Peter asked her, "Do you want a divorce?"

The girl spoke quietly through her sobs as she twisted her wedding band, "I do not want one. It will shame me, but I cannot be married to him any longer. I am afraid of him. But he will not want a divorce either. Mostly, he will not want to give up any of our family money, but I must have my inheritance. I cannot make my way in this world alone."

"You aren't alone," Peter assured her.

At that moment, Chen brought in a tea tray, which he balanced on a small table and began to pour out fragrant green tea into three cups. Handing Ahn Li the first one, Peter told her, "Sip this. It will help calm you. Let me talk something over with Detective Powell. We'll be right back."

Taking Jody by the arm, he guided her into the kitchen. "Can we get her into the women's shelter, do you think?"

Jody shook her head, "They're always full to capacity and it's unlikely they'll make room for someone who tells great stories with no marks or proof to back her up."

"She's married to Jack Wong. That should be proof enough," Peter snapped.

Jody shrugged as she watched him pace a bit. "Got to make your case."

"No," he informed her, "You do. I don't. Not any more. Now I get to act on what I know, not just what I can prove. She's not going back to him, not unless she wants to. I have a friend who I think will take her in. Mr. Fong can always use some help in the bakery and she won't have to appear anywhere in public until she's ready."

Jody laughed. "Peter, this is Moon Musong's daughter. Born with silver chopsticks in her mouth. Get the picture? That girl probably doesn't even know where the kitchen is in her own house and you want to send her to work in a bakery? You're out of your mind. And what happens when Wong files a missing person's report?"

"He won't," Peter assured her as he turned back towards his solarium.

"Peter..Peter?"

She followed his retreating figure back into the room. Peter took the cup of tea Chen handed him and passed it to Jody with a look of determination in his eyes that she knew she couldn't fight. Taking the tea, she sat back in the chair. Yeah, she'd just have a nice cup of tea before going home to that steamy romance novel she'd been saving and the neighbor's cat  
.  
Peter knelt in front of the now calmer girl. "Ahn Li, I will help you. But you must help yourself too. Are you prepared to try?"

She nodded, so he continued, "I have a friend who will take you in. He runs a bakery and he will give you work to earn your keep. You'll learn a skill you can use to support yourself if you need to."

Ahn Li looked dubious as Jody suspected she would. The girl would probably run right back to her gilded cage within a week, she thought as she sipped the tea. Peter was wasting his time. And her time, come to think of it. Damn, she'd so wanted this night to finally happen.

Peter took the cup from the girl and held her hands. "Now comes the hard part. You must talk to your husband and tell him you are leaving him. Wait, hear me out," he told her as she appeared to be ready to break in.

"If you don't, he will file a missing person's report and we will be obliged to tell him where you are. This way, he will know you are safe but he won't know where you are; we'll call him on my cell phone. You can stay hidden while you work with a lawyer to obtain your divorce. I can't see how any judge wouldn't give you some of the family funds. The law says you are entitled. Is this acceptable to you?"

"Yes," she wept softly.

"Does he have a cell phone with him tonight?"

Ahn Li nodded, "He always carries it with him in case his Master whistles for him."

Jody smiled at the imagery of Jack as dog as Peter pulled out his cell phone. Perhaps this girl had some guts after all. Ahn Li pressed the buttons and waited for a bit. "Jack? Nothing is wrong. Not anymore. I am leaving you. I have left you. Don't try to find me. My lawyer will contact you soon. Goodbye."

She snapped the phone closed with a satisfied smile. "That was good. Now finish up your tea and we'll take you to Mr. Fong's. He's probably just about ready to go to bed right now but he's a very nice man and I know you're going to like him."

Jody stood up. One part of her bristled at leaving him with a hot little package like Ahn Li Wong, but it was obvious the evening was a bust and she just didn't want to get any further into this situation.

"Sorry, Peter, but I think it's time I left."

He looked surprised and it surprised her that she felt satisfied by it. "Are you sure? We could catch the late show..."

Jody shook her head. "I need to get up early. Have a few cases to work on before I dare take that vacation time, but you can walk me to the door."

He walked her all the way to where she'd parked her car in front of the brownstone. "I'm sorry," he apologized softly, pulling her into his arms again, "This wasn't the evening I had planned for us."

"Mmmm," she agreed, "me either."

"Let's try again after you take that vacation time, okay?"

"Deal, if you'll kiss me again. "

"Deal."   
**********************************************************

"I suppose you think all that noise last night was funny?"

Snow gave her mother an innocent look as she passed her the pitcher of orange juice. "What noise?"

They were sitting in the little breakfast nook that overlooked what was left of the herb garden. Snow had harvested enough to dry for winter's use before the first frost had ravaged it. Her father was further out in the yard, tossing a stick for Radar who had for some reason decided to humor him by returning it. Kermit had left to go to the precinct for a few hours, probably more to get away from his in-laws than real need to work on any particular case since it was his day off.

"This man hasn't been a positive influence on your sense of humor, Snow. Nor on your ability to run a bluff," her mother informed her.

Snow laughed, "Maybe not, but he's certainly improved my sex life."

Star gave her a disapproving look, so Snow decided to change the subject before her mother could start in on divulging intimate details she'd rather not hear. "So where are you headed to next? Daddy said something about you taking the train east?"

"We're going to visit your grandmother."

Snow set her cup down to keep from spilling it. "What? You're going to see Grandma Murdoch's grave? Why? Is dad okay? He's not dying or something, is he?"

"Your father is fine. We're going to see my mother. Nana Newman."

It was like having ice dropped down her back. "Nana? But you said you'd never... I mean, she wouldn't see you...you haven't spoken with her in 30 years at least, Mom. Did she send for you? What's going on?"

Star shrugged and gazed out the window at her mate as if not wanting her daughter to see what was in her eyes. "Like you say, it's been more than 30 years. She's sick, she's old and yes, she's dying. Not soon. But I want to face her again before she goes. I have questions, important questions and I need some answers. Maybe I won't get to hear what I want, but I have to try. She owes me."

Snow could feel the emotions that bubbled and roiled like hot oil. Anger. Rage, even. Pain. Loss. Separation? Love. They flooded her for a second and she gripped the edge of the table as she groped for control.

"Snow? Snowbaby, are you all right?"

It was her mother talking, looking at her curiously. She slammed down the shields that Peter had taught her, cutting off the torrent. "I'm okay. Just a little control problem. You caught me by surprise."

Her mother looked almost frightened. "You felt my emotions?"

"It's not like it's been the first time, mom."

Her mother seemed to be doing her own bid for control, looking like a bird smoothing her feathers. "Well, yes, I'm sure. It's just..well, I'm sorry. I hope I didn't overwhelm you. What...what did you feel?"

"The same things all daughters feel. Love and hate at the same time."

"Do you hate me, Snow?"

Snow shrugged. "I did at times, mom. Mostly when I was a teenager who thought she was an adult. I think it's something we all have to go through, don't you?"

She hoped her mother might take the invitation to open up but it seemed she wasn't ready to discuss whatever was on her mind. "I suppose," her mother answered vaguely, "I think I'll go see if your father is ready to go, dear."

Snow began to rinse dishes and piled them in the dishwasher as her mother left to join her spouse in the garden. Watching them for a moment, she was tempted to stretch out her talent to see if she could find some clearer meaning behind her mother's words. But she couldn't violate another's privacy for mere curiosity. If her mother were clearly in some danger, it would probably be all right, but not this way. She'd just have to wait for her mother to tell her what was going on.

****************************************  
"Did you tell her?"

Star shook her head negatively. "I'm not ready. Not 'til we know more."

"Your mother may not tell us anything. And sometimes, it's hard to track these things down after so long a time. They seal records. Lose them. Or they get destroyed."

"So should we give up without even trying?" Star snapped at him.

He put his arm around her soothingly. "No, of course not. Just trying to prepare you for the possibilities. And for what I'm going to say next."

She looked at him, annoyed. "I'm so fragile you have to treat me like I'm glass? Spit it out, darling."

"Our new...family member... is a detective. He knows how to investigate things. Probably has connections we couldn't even guess about if he was in the CIA. He could be helpful."

Star leaned her head on her mate's strong shoulder and sighed. "I've already been down that road. Last night when I couldn't sleep. I'd hate to have to ask. But I'll do whatever I have to, even grovel to that...cop. Please, though, let's not ask until we've exhausted every other resource, all right?"

"Okay. Come on, let's get our things together. Time, tide and public transport wait for no man."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

If Kermit were a rooster, he'd have been crowing as he tapped furiously on the keyboard. "Got ya, ya bastard. Got ya," he muttered to himself repeatedly as if it were a mantra to be chanted, not with reverence, but with pure, sincere, malice.

It was a large sum of money; big enough for Bon Bon Hai to feel the sting for days to come; big enough to burn even longer in the Tiger's memory. Kermit could have taken the illegal funds in such a way that even the best hackers would never be able to trace it, but he didn't. Instead he dispatched it into a numbered Swiss account and left a trail that lead deviously, but ultimately, clearly to him. Hai would eventually discover who had diverted his money, but since it was all unreported income, Hai would never take any legal steps to try to recover it. Illegal methods of recovery would be more in keeping with his MO, but he doubted he'd succeed.

As for using the information to harm Kermit's career, that would also be tough since the Swiss account belonged to a thinly disguised front for Britain's MI6. It would look like he was just up to some extra-curricular activities for old friends. Might even give the Tiger the idea that MI6 had an interest in him too. No, the only thing Hai could conceivably do, would be to come after him personally and that he would still be loath to do. For now. His position as a cop and reputation as a mercenary would make Hai cautious. This was merely a tweak of the Tiger's tail. He'd need to do more to make Hai lose his cool and come after him, Kermit thought satisfactorily as he hit the final key, sending the money transfer into the custody of the vigilant gnomes of Europe. But it was a good start.

He leaned back in his chair and swilled the last gulp of his cola, mentally toasting the moment. "You are coming down, Tiger. They'll be calling you Bon Bon Low the Tiger Lily by the time I'm through with you."

A swift crush and toss sent the empty can into the recycle bin across the room. Outside his office, the bullpen was suspiciously quiet. No hookers screaming, no phones ringing. He glanced at his watch. Oh, that explained it. After hours. All the action had shifted to the night desk. How time flies when you're enjoying your work, he thought with a grim smile.  
He powered down the computer, got up to retrieve his weapon from it's place in the drawer and, carrying his overcoat, flipped the light switch off, closing the office door firmly behind him. As he walked past the front desk, he heard the sounds of chatter and laughter coming from the lower level. Curious, he stepped quietly downstairs and found most of the ladies of the precinct flocking in and around the open door of an interrogation room. Mary Margaret was chatting with the Chief, apparently one of the few men there. "Kermit? We thought you'd left."

"Come and have some punch," Strenlich offered amiably and it occurred to Kermit that considering the Chief's manner, the punch was probably spiked.

"No thanks. Just came down to see what all the noise was about."

He glanced into the room. It was swathed in hordes of pink crepe paper and, sitting at a table piled with food, shreds of wrapping paper and baby gear was Captain Simms, beaming broadly as she held up a tiny dress. "Kermit," she called happily, "come on in and join the party."

He shook his head, "Thanks, but I'm on my way home. At risk to my life, I'd have to say that unless you are planning a severe diet, that dress will probably not fit, Captain."

"Kermit," laughed Mary Margaret, giving him a gentle biff on the shoulder, and ignoring the glare he flicked at her, "It's for the baby. This is a baby shower."

"Oh, one of those mysterious female rituals."

"Kelly had night shift. I felt obligated," Strenlich mentioned, as if needing to explain his presence.

"We invited Snow. Too bad she has to work those strange hours."

He shrugged. "You know how it is when you're first starting out. Low man on the totem pole gets last choice. Um, by the way, did I forget to bring something for this little soiree, because I don't remember Snow asking me to."

Mary Margaret smiled, "I offered to pick it up for her. It was a thinly disguised ploy to take a peek at where you live, but I guess Snow saw through it. She met me for lunch to drop it off yesterday and now I have more questions than ever about both you and her. You don't mind that I tried to grill her, do you?"

The grin was so ingenuous, so typically Mary Margaret, but two could play at that game. "It's no crime to ask. Of course, if you do uncover anything, I will be forced to terminate your existence."

"Someday he'll shock us all and spit out the whole, unvarnished truth," commented Jody as she brought him a paper cup of punch. "But we'll be so used to the stories, just like with the boy who cried wolf, we won't recognize the truth."

He glanced into the cup--whatever it was, it was hideously pink. He handed it back with his best, 'you've-got-to-be-kidding' look. "That's the plan. Nobody really wants the truth anyway. It's far too mundane. Actually, my previous post was at a convent, teaching needlepoint. I don't have a degree in criminology but I've read every Agatha Christie twice, so I can fake it."

He was sufficiently pleased with the looks and grins his comment elicited.

"Anyone know what Snow got for little 'Working Title;' I take it she still doesn't have a permanent name yet? I'd like to have a clue in case the Captain says anything to me about it."

Mary Margaret passed her cup to Strenlich to hold as she offered, "I'll go find it. Hang on."

She headed into the pink chaos as Kermit called after her, "Hey, I really don't need to see it..."

"She's on a mission. See if you can work up an 'aww' or two, eh?" Jody advised.

"Over my dead body," he muttered.

Mary Margaret came back with a handful of tiny clothes to hold out to him. "Aren't these adorable?"

"Enchanting," he said as he backed up a step, hands upraised to hold her off, "I'm all agog with delight."

"Oops."

A dainty pink sneaker dropped from the pile. As he bent to retrieve it, something about the way it lay on the floor at his feet jarred a memory loose. Instantly, he was caught up in the past; a past he'd managed to ignore lately, since he'd found a modicum of peace with Snow.

It was in Afghanistan, in the heat and glare of a noonday sun. They'd come upon a small shoe amongst the rocks. He picked it up, curious about the strange coloration and realized, as he held it, that it was stained with blood. They'd found the child a few steps ahead, behind a large rock. She was about six or so, still pretty, like an angel caught sleeping, in spite of what had obviously been done to her. From the ground around her, it looked like she'd run there to hide unsuccessfully. Her wounds were crusted and dried from the heat but they could tell it was recent kill from the coppery scent of fresh blood. It was only a minor prelude to what they would find at the orphanage just beyond.

All the emotions of that day swept over him, flooding his senses. Rage, horror, nausea, disgust at his own species for its ability to be so inhumane, self-loathing for his own actions; he was drowning.

Then the red haze of emotion faded and Karen was there, saying something to him. He was still holding the shoe, but shoved it back to Mary Margaret who had an odd look on her face. Karen looked a bit confused too. "Kermit? Is that all right with you?"

He tried to pull himself back into focus. "What?"

"I said, I'd like you both to come to the 'Welcome Home' party this Saturday when I bring Mary home. If Snow isn't working, of course and if you can possibly stand it."

The thought of being trapped with group of people cooing over a baby was almost more than he could handle at that moment. "Not bloody likely," he snapped, not thinking how it sounded.

She looked hurt and Mary Margaret let out a shocked, "Hey, Kermit..."

He had to get out of there. "Excuse me, I need some air. Good-night."

He turned to walk away, but the Chief's hand shot out to grab his shoulder. "That was uncalled for, Griffin..."

Mercenary reactions, rebooted by his flashback, snapped into place and he whirled to shove the big man into the wall, dropping the overcoat to bring up his arm in his favorite choke hold. Jody and Simms were both on him immediately. "Let him go, Kermit," his boss ordered him sternly.

Jody whispered in his ear, "It's not him that you're mad at, Kermit."

Kermit released him, shrugging off violating hands, his breaths coming in short pants to suck in much needed air, as he backed off under the shocked looks of his co-workers. "It's been a long day," Simms soothed, "And some of us have had a bit too much punch," she added, looking at Strenlich with sympathy as if to thank him in spite of her words.

Strenlich rubbed his throat, "Yeah, and some of us have no manners."

"And not everyone has to like babies," Jody put in as she swept up Kermit's overcoat and thrust it into his arms.

"Besides, Chief, when has anyone accused Kermit of having manners. We all know Snow is a saint to put up with him."

Putting herself between him and his co-workers, she gestured back towards the stairs. "Speaking of Snow, weren't you supposed to be picking her up after work or something?" she asked.

He couldn't think of a single thing to say to make the moment any better, so he let it go and stalked away, not acknowledging that Jody was following until they came to the front door when he stopped and turned, giving her a gruff, "Thanks for getting me out of there."

 

It surprised her. She didn't expect him to be back in control that quickly. It was obvious to her by the set of his jaw when he'd picked up that shoe that he had been thinking about the orphanage in Afghanistan. Sometimes, she was sorry she'd ever looked into that business and she hadn't even gotten into all the gory details. It was chilling to think that someone who worked so diligently for law and justice, could just take that law into his own hands and deliver a justice so cold, so bloody and so cruel. It was almost as if he were two different people, but in a way, he was; the young man he'd been and the older, wiser man haunted by his past who stood before her now.

"You know, if you just talked to Karen, she'd understand," Jody suggested cautiously.

"Sure. I can just spill my guts to everyone, why the hell not? "

"I'm not saying that. Just let her know that you have your reasons; that it's not something personal about her or her new daughter," Jody offered, putting a hand on his arm.

He jerked it away as if he'd been burned. Jody frowned. "Sorry, I forgot. Untouchable Kermit; I thought you had gotten a little more human lately. My mistake."

He shifted his overcoat to his other arm and raked fingers through his hair in a nervous gesture she'd seen a few times in the past. "Look, I told you, I appreciate what you did for me just now. I appreciate your discretion. But I'm not ready to be everyone's best friend, okay? This is the longest I've ever worked with any group of people, barring Paul's team and even them I only saw for a few days at a time, at odd intervals. It's been my past experience that people I work with get killed on a regular basis and I learned quickly not to invest scarce emotional resources on short term friendships. There was no telling when that bullet would slam into the person next to you. Mission objectives were always more important than co-workers or myself for that matter. So don't get on me about opening myself up when it's just not in my nature. I like the people I work with, including you. That's as much of an admission as I can handle right now."

Jody stared at him. She'd heard about some of his emotional outbursts, even seen a couple, but never one of this magnitude. "You're really a lot more sensitive than you let on, aren't you?" she accused.

"Conversation ended. Thanks and good-night, Powell," he snarled and turned to the door, pushing it open.

"Kermit!"

He stopped, turning only his head partway to glare at her.

"Do what you have to regarding your co-workers, but don't do this to Snow. She's more than just some temporary partner. She deserves better. If you haven't taken time to tell her how you really feel, make time. Like you said, you never know when..."

She left the thought unfinished and as she expected, he didn't answer her, just left, letting the door slam behind him.

Downstairs, both Simms and Skalany cornered her privately in the hall. "What the hell was that all about?" Simms questioned her.

Jody shrugged, "Just Kermit being his usual, sweet anti-social self, I guess."

Simms shook her head. "No, what you said to him. 'It's not him that you're mad at…' I heard you. What does that mean?"

"A wild guess. Even Kermit doesn't go off half-cocked for no good reason."

Simms looked unconvinced. "You know something," Mary Margaret accused.

"If I did and if I told you, he'd be forced to terminate my existence along with yours, now wouldn't he?"

"Just tell me this," Simms requested, "Was there a good reason behind all that?"

"Oh, yeah," Jody assured her.

Nodding as if satisfied, Simms went back into the room with the rest of the gang. Mary Margaret waited until she was sure they wouldn't be overheard. "Remember the night Jack Wong brought Snow back when she was kidnapped? He said something about an orphanage to Kermit, didn't he? Orphanage? Babies?"

Jody gave her a deep, searching look. Her love of solving puzzles made Skalany a great detective, but this time, it would only cause bad feelings. "I remember that night. I also remember Peter telling us to back off and not to probe any further into that area, don't you?"

Skalany looked uncomfortable for a moment, "Well, yes, but..."

Jody cut her off. "No buts. I know you're curious, but it's not important. What's important is that Kermit is part of our team. He's family. There isn't a person in the precinct he hasn't helped either as back up or dredging up data on that computer and there's no one I'd rather have watching my back for me. You'd better decide if knowing what Kermit was, is more important that what he is, because, I guarantee you, if you poke in the wrong spot, he's going to bite something off. And then he'll leave."

Mary Margaret looked apologetic, "You're right. This time, it's none of my business. I'm sorry. Sometimes, I open my big mouth before I've had a chance to think things through."

Jody sighed, feeling badly for dressing her partner down, especially considering she was guilty herself of digging into Kermit's past, "Hey, look, the Chief isn't the only one who's had more than their share of that punch. I've been busy feeling sorry for myself and thought it would be a good idea to celebrate someone who's getting the kind of happiness I'll never see."

"You really think that?"

"I don't know. And, sometimes, lately, I'm not even sure if that's what I really want. Babies and all. I like being a cop. It's one thing to adopt when you're a Captain who takes home a good paycheck and can take time off when she pleases. It's another to put your career on hold to get pregnant and have kids. You ever take any time to really think about what it's like to have a life growing inside you and to give birth? And then stuff like diapers and breastfeeding? Turning your kid over to daycare to go back to work?"

Skalany nodded. "Sometimes. And I guess I feel the same way. I like being a cop too. It's almost like you can't have both. Or that you have to give up a lot in both areas if you try. All this confusion; it couldn't have anything to do with your date with Peter last week, could it?"

Jody leaned back against the wall. "Maybe. I don't know. It was the date that didn't happen, remember? Makes me wonder if someone up there is trying to tell me something."

"I've never known you to give up so easily, partner," Skalany encouraged.

"I'm not giving up. Just taking a breather to...reassess my priorities. I'm going to take that vacation time next week and go back to St. Paul for a visit with my folks."

Mary Margaret looked surprised. "You're going to voluntarily see your mother without a holiday to distract her from riding you? 'You're a better man than I am, Gunga Din.' Then again, your mother is a piker compared to mine."

Jody laughed. "That's true. She has yet to ask any of my boyfriends about their financial situation."

Mary Margaret groaned, hand to her forehead in mock pain. "Gad, I wish she'd stop that. One of these days, when Caine gets back, I'm going to take him to meet her and let him tell her about his retirement plan. That should put an end to her harping. If I thought I'd end up like her, I definitely wouldn't have children."

"Motherhood can't be easy. I know my mother just wants me to be happy and she sees I'm not. I can't fault her for that. She thinks she knows what will make me happy. Problem is, right now, I'm not even sure I know."

"You think talking to her will help you figure that out?"

Jody shook her head negatively, "I don't know. Maybe. At least I can get some insight on motherhood straight from the horse's mouth so to speak. And, I know this will sound strange, but I think I'll be closer to Kira there. I want to know what she'd think about all this."

"She'd probably tell you to get your hands off her boyfriend," Mary Margaret joked.

Jody smiled at the thought. "Yeah, well, I saw him first."

"But he thought you were Kira."

"I was doing her a favor. She's the one who wanted to blow off marksmanship class at the Academy. Not my fault if I got to meet Peter first."

"Well, partner, whatever you decide, I'm behind you all the way...and watching you closely to see how you would manage to juggle both motherhood and a career since I could be in the same boat, relatively speaking, someday."

"Thanks. I might end up calling you from Minnesota to come and rescue me. Keep your weekends free."

"Yeah, no problems there," she commented with a rueful grin.

"So how much of that punch have you had?"

Skalany looked at her cup. "About half a glass. Why?"

Jody took the glass from her. "I just named you designated driver. Pour me into my apartment later, would you partner?"

"Sure. Come on; let's go see if we can confuse the Captain with more baby names. My great aunt was named Minerva. She used to really tick my mom off. Think the Captain would go for it?"

Jody downed the punch in one gulp and threw a friendly arm over her partner's shoulder. "Great idea. I'm thinking Madonna sounds good."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"I have a feeling that's not the best way to get a tan if that's your intention," Snow commented about her husband's lack of clothing as he bathed in the glare of his computer monitor.

It was late, or rather very early. She hadn't heard him leave their bed, but a surge of emotions invaded her dreams and finally coerced her back to consciousness. When she woke to find him gone, she shuffled sleepily to his den, knowing he'd be there. He hadn't bothered with lights, choosing to work by the monitor's glow alone; it was a sure sign something was disturbing him.

He gave her a weak smile. "Well, one thing's for sure. If I show up at work like this, no one will steal my chair anymore and I'll have a dandy place to keep my doughnut."

She took her usual position when she invaded his sanctuary, perching on the edge of his desk, to warm her bare toes in Radar's fur as the wolf snoozed at her master's feet. "Nobody dares to steal your chair anyway. They're afraid you'll exterminate them if they do. Want to let me in on what's eating you? You're broadcasting like the Hubble Space Telescope."

"That bad, eh?"

"I don't usually get much from you, babe. You know that. Besides, you were even less communicative than usual tonight."

He reached up his hand to take hers. "I don't mean to be. I'm just not comfortable with coming home and whining about my day. You know that."

"I do. I also know that you haven't had nightmares in a long time either."

"How did you know about that? I didn't wake you."

"No, you didn't. Didn't have to; I recognize the aftershocks. Question is, what has triggered them again? Any idea?"

"Oh, yeah. A shoe. A damned baby shoe."

Dropping her hand, he leaned back in his chair, raking fingers through his hair. The emotions were boiling up again, like hot tar; thick, dark and heavy. She waited patiently for him to open up to her with whatever he could. "Skalany insisted on showing me what you picked out for the Captain's baby shower tonight. There was this shoe that dropped and all I did was pick it up and it was like being sent back in time. Bam, and I'm right back in Afghanistan. We came around a bend in the trail and there was this one shoe laying there. A child's shoe. And not too far away was the other shoe and what was left of its owner. Next thing I know, I"m back in the precinct, insulting Karen and making a general ass of myself. Damn it. I don't even know exactly what the hell I said to her."

Snow strengthened her shields before sliding off the desk and cuddling into her husband's lap, arms around his neck, holding him tightly. "Can you make it better by apologizing tomorrow?" she asked quietly, nuzzling his ear.

He wrapped his arms around her with a gentle sigh, as his emotional storm began to subside. "Probably. To some degree. Jody thinks I should do some explaining so Simms knows it isn't personal."

"Sounds like something you won't want to do."

He gave a gentle snort. "I don't need to give anyone else my nightmares."

"Then perhaps a simple 'you're sorry, it was some of your past catching up with you, no details,' would work for both of you. She's a pretty understanding lady. At least when it comes to you, she is."

He tugged on her braid so she had to face him, dark eyes searching hers as if he could look deep inside to her most hidden thoughts. "Snow, there's no reason for you to be jealous. I told you she's in the past."

Snow rubbed her nose on his and murmured, "You're right. The past is past. All of it. Let's leave it there."

He let go of her hair and, sliding his hand to the back of her neck, took a gentle kiss. Then she snuggled back into his neck again and closed her eyes, opening herself again to see if he was settled. The storm had eased even more but wasn't cleared yet. She waited to hear what else he would share.

"Jody mentioned something else to me," he began, but hesitated as if he was searching for the right words.

She didn't dare move, afraid it would distract him. He'd been stroking her hair but stopped and shifted so that he could see her face again, her damned read-me-like-a-book face. What ever he was ready to say, she could tell he wanted to make sure he could study her reaction to his words. "She thinks I don't let you know how much I appreciate you."

Not one storm, but two, separate. Not equal in intensity, but both substantial. More emotions bubbled up. Apprehension, more than anything else, but behind it, another emotion she'd come to recognize from their time together. Elusive, tentative, but genuine.

"Jody's needs are not the same as mine. She's not an empath; she requires words. I don't, sweetheart. I only need what I feel from you and I am satisfied with that," she told him.

From the relief in his eyes, she knew she'd said exactly the right thing. The deep kiss that connected them physically spoke as loudly to her as the passion that enveloped her empathically. She let him communicate in his own way and basked in the precious feeling of being so cherished.

They held on to each other in silence for a while before she broke the mood by asking lightly, "So, is this work or were you just cruising the porno sites for a cheap thrill?"

"Work, in a way. I can find you a porno site if you're disappointed, however, I do believe even cheap thrills go for 9.99 these days and you will need a major credit card."

"I already know a great site. It's in the bedroom and you've got a free lifetime membership. Drop in anytime," she invited, caressing his cheek. "I'm too cold out here. Think I'll go back to bed. I've got another swing shift tomorrow. Don't stay up too long, sweetheart."

"I won't," he reassured her. "I think I can probably sleep again. Just have to finish this download. Don't stay awake for me though."

Even with her shields up, she could tell the storm was over. For tonight anyway. She padded back to bed and drifted off, waking only slightly by the soft clicking of claws and wolfy Humpf! as Radar settled down to guard the doorway. The bed trembled as he slipped under the covers to spoon up beside her, nestling into her like a ship returning to safe harbor.

************************************

"So let me kill him."

"No!" Bon Bon Hai frothed, "No, that would be too easy. I will have my revenge on this buzzing fly, this annoying gnat, this bothersome Griffin. I will not be robbed of the pleasure of witnessing the Dark Warrior sucking his soul, leaving his body a desolate, lifeless husk."

Jack Wong rolled his eyes at the mention of the Dark Warrior yet again. His boss was pacing, avoiding the shards of Chinese antiquity dashed to the floor around him. Only the Ming vase and the bell glass over the Book of Shambhala has escaped so far and it wasn't looking good for the glass. Then Hai stopped pacing, taking up his favored stance in front of the book, running his hands over the glass, stroking it like a cat. The ritual seemed to soothe him.

"It was only money. This country is full of weak men, willing to part with more. But Griffin is not weak. No, he tasks me, tries my patience. He proceeds with cunning and knows I am not yet ready to strike back at him."

"Then go after those he cares about," suggested Jack, "We could grab his old lady again."

"To what end?" questioned Hai.

"Kill her?"

Hai snorted in disgust. "For diverting my funds? A worthless idea and wasteful. Her chi is strong; it too will nourish the Dark Warrior. We will take her when we need her. Try again."

Jack was quiet for a few minutes, scheming frantically. Something brilliant would be convenient right about now. What did the mercenary value? Not much, if the rumors about him were true. Wong smiled as a thought occurred to him. "Okay, what about I ruffle his feathers a little; I can take out the brakes on that old car he drives. I leaned against the fender once and he nearly took my head off. He's handy behind the wheel; he'd probably survive a crash and he'll get the message, loud and clear."

Hai nodded. "Better. Do it. But, also consider the long term. Have his apartment watched in case we need to move quickly. We need to have a plan in place and ready for immediate action."

Thinking aloud had worked the last few times, so Jack decided to try it again. "Griffin isn't tight with too many people. Mainly the cops he works with. There was a rumor a while back he was getting cozy with his Captain, but his marriage has probably put an end to that. He values Peter Caine who we cannot touch yet, and Caine's old man who we can't find. And then, there's his former Captain, Blaisdell, who is also unavailable..."

"Ha!" cried out the Tiger. "Blaisdell. Valued by both young Caine and Griffin. Yesss...."

Jack regretted his words. Blaisdell, while ideal, would be impossible to get to. "He's gone."

"His family is not."

"Others have tried that way. They are well protected," Jack argued with him, "And it will only encourage Griffin to come after you personally before we're ready for him."

Hai nodded. "Then we must look into locating Blaisdell himself. While you teach this cur Griffin respect, I will attend to the task of locating him. My contacts are many and far reaching."

Jack tried not to let the relief show on his face. This would keep his boss occupied for a while, most likely fruitlessly. Give him time to come up with something dazzling, and a little more feasible. He stood up. "I'll go make arrangements to have Griffin's apartment watched."

"Sit," Hai snarled.

Jack sat. Now what? Please, Buddha, don't let it be about his wife....

"I understand your wife has left you," said Hai.

Jack cringed.

"So?" Hai asked, apparently waiting for his excuse.

Jack decided to take a bold course. "So what? Good riddance. We got control of her father's business; what do we need with her anymore? She was more trouble than she was worth."

"The community will not look upon this with favor. It will tarnish what standing you had. It will be regarded as a grave failure on your part that you could not keep an obedient Chinese wife happy enough to remain at your side."

"By the time I am done with her, it's her reputation that'll be tarnished. I'll have my lawyer paint a picture of a spoiled girl who's Western ideals brings shame on her family name. That the community will understand. Publicly, I treated her well; I'm the wronged husband here."

Hai's face was impassive so Jack continued, seeking a tender spot to distract and convince his boss. "They say she went to Caine and that he's hiding her. I'll go make a scene at his place about wanting my dear, beloved wife back. Make it look like he's having a fling with her. The man's rep with the babes isn't exactly priestly, you know. Stir up a bit of trouble. Start some rumors. One more nail in his coffin."

Hai looked satisfied. "Do so. Report back to me at the end of the week. I will have information about Blaisdell by then. Now go."

Jack escaped as quickly as dignity would allow. The Tiger's obsession with Shambhala and the Shaolins was wearing thin. The man was getting old. It was time someone new took his place, he thought to himself, someone younger with fresh ideas, more firmly grounded in reality; someone like Jack Wong.

***********************************

Mr. Fong bowed low as Peter entered his shop and Peter returned the bow, careful to achieve the same angle to show the baker that he was held in equal esteem. This simple action took Peter instantly back to his childhood, to the temple and one of his father's many lessons on respect for others.

He introduced the man who had accompanied him, the lawyer he'd found to help Ahn Li. Mr. Fong gave a slightly higher bow to the attorney as befitted the man's status, "I am most pleased to welcome you to my shop, Mr. Pau. Would you like to use my office?" he invited, gesturing to a small room in the back.

As the two men went in, Peter stopped to watch the action in the main part of the bakery. Almost a dozen people of various ages were busily creating an assortment of delectable products. The room was warm, it's light diffused by a soft fog of flour dust and the heady scent of yeast tickled his nose. In a quiet corner an old woman was showing Ahn Li, hands-on, how to knead dough. The girl seemed to be enjoying herself. "Do not be afraid of it," the woman commanded briskly, in Chinese, "Treat it roughly and it will rise better."

"I shall pretend it is my husband's face then," Ahn Li said as she punched one dainty fist straight into the middle of the mass.

It gave him some satisfaction to see how well she was fitting in. The frightened child had disappeared and left a woman of determination in her place. He called her name and she smiled brightly when she spotted him.

"Master Caine!" she exclaimed, running to give him a floury embrace.

The entire room stopped to give him a respectful bow before returning to their work, sly smiles on the faces of a few as he gently peeled the lovely young woman off him. "Oh, I am so sorry," she apologized, picking up a nearby cloth to dust away some of the floury hand prints she'd left behind.

The dusty cloth only made things worse. By the time he guided her to the office and introduced her to Mr. Pau, he looked part way between Silas Marner and Casper the ghost. He left them discussing her case. Mr. Fong accompanied him to the shop door. "How is she doing?" he asked the baker.

Mr. Fong shrugged. "Not too badly considering her background. She has courage. She does not object to any job given to her and speaks up when she does not know what to do. I have never met a female who did not even know how to do the simplest of tasks but then I come from simple people who have worked hard all their lives."

"This will be a real learning experience for her. I appreciate your help. Remember to call me immediately if Jack Wong or any of his people show up here. I don't expect them to, but it could happen."

"My people will be silent. They mind their own business," Mr. Fong assured him. "She will be safely hidden here."

"It's unlikely that even her own husband could recognize her under all that flour anyway," Peter grinned, flicking more residue from his sleeve.

With a few more words and a final bow, Peter left the shop to stroll up the street through the heart of Chinatown. He was glad he'd decided to walk, taking time to chat with familiar faces and enjoying the scents and sounds that took him back to his childhood.

Coming up on a tea shop, he spied the Ancient at a table sipping a late morning cup of tea. "Peter, come join me," Lo Si invited.

Peter sat, thanking the waitress who promptly brought him a cup of tea with a respectful bow. "It is a lovely day," the Ancient observed and Peter nodded, sipping the tangy green tea.

More than a year ago, he'd sat at a similar table with his father and Lo Si, sipping a morning cup impatiently and wondering why they were wasting time. He'd learned since that the tea was only an excuse to be seen in public, to be honored by the community and to be approached by those in need. However, the one who approached him now, from behind, was not likely to honor him. "Caine!" shouted a voice loudly. "You, Peter Caine! Where is my wife?"

Peter expected to be confronted by Jack Wong, but not so publicly. The man had something up his sleeve. Peter ignored him until he came to face him directly.

"I said what have you done with my wife?"

Peter kept his face impassive. "I have done nothing with your wife, Jack. Have you lost her?"

"You know very well she's left me. She came crying to you with your Western ways and ideals. She is spoiled by this place with its ideas about independence for women. I cherished her. I cared for her but it was not enough and when she looked around for someone new to entertain her, she saw your handsome face, didn't she, priest?"

Peter glanced surreptitiously at the people around him, reading clearly what was on their minds. No wonder Jack had taken the public route. He was playing to the gallery and trying to make Peter look like a Lothario who'd seduced a hapless woman away from her loving husband. That explained some of the sly looks he'd noticed at the bakery when Ahn Li had thrown herself at him. He had to quash this rumor immediately.

"A tiger cannot change its stripes," Peter told him calmly, "Not even a tiger cub wearing a Rolex watch."

The Ancient smiled, but Jack looked confused. "What the hell is that supposed to mean, Shaolin?"

"It means that respect is only due to those worthy of respect. It's earned, not purchased. You're still a cheap hood, Jack, and your wife knows you dance to Bon Bon Hai's tune. She's a decent person, with values and doesn't wish to be a part of your little criminal empire. That's why she's left you. Not to come to me, but to get away from you."

Jack looked a bit frustrated with his story not holding water, his audience's sympathy apparently trickling away. "Everyone knows your reputation, Loverboy. You seduced her!" he accused.

"And they know yours, Jack. You've threatened and bullied half the community at one time or another. They've seen you at the clubs with other women, gambling, drinking. A proper Chinese wife isn't required to support her husband's shameful activities. Your veneer of respectability is wearing thin, Wong. You'd do better to spend your time making plans with your lawyer than waste time losing face here."

The Ancient was smiling broadly now and Jack was livid. "This isn't over," he threatened. "You will pay for your part in this, you cheap seducer of innocent women."

It was an empty threat; a grandstand play before leaving the field of battle. Jack strode away with his cohorts, slamming the door of the limousine viciously before it screeched away.

"You are a fine representative of Shaolin, Peter Caine. Your father would be so proud of you," the Ancient said softly.  
Peter let a small smile of satisfaction cross his lips. He felt the pull of his father's chi and his hand went to his face as if he could feel a gentle slap there.

It was a high compliment from his father's mentor and he bowed slightly to the old man in return. Then, taking a few coins from his pocket, he dropped them on the table. As priests and with regard to his companion's age, neither were expected to pay for their tea, but Peter always left a token payment to show he appreciated the honor accorded him.   
"It is still a lovely day," Peter said, standing to go, "and if you were to stop by my place tonight, you'd find my student Wah Chen still thinks he is cooking for his entire family instead of just for the two of us. I'm certain it will be at least ample."

"Bloody marvelous," came the expected answer.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

For a moment, Peter was back in the temple; the smell of the candles, the drafts that blew through the practice area, the sound of his classmates as they chanted along with Master Khan, counting through their exercises. But this wasn't the temple, just the Kwoon he'd set up on the first floor of the brownstone left in his care by his father and the class was a rowdy group of kindergarteners. Only the instructor, Master Khan was the same; older but still so much the same.

He strolled through the group, straightening an arm or adjusting a stance here and there to help out while Master Khan led the children. With a final clap of his hand, the Master released his charges to their parents. Almost as many ran to Peter for hugs and praise as those who ran to Khan. Soon the room was empty except for one young woman who chatted with Khan while trying to get a couple of twin terrors into their outer clothing and rain boots. She finally left and Master Khan turned to him with a large grin on his face.

Peter had been instrumental in getting the two together and now his old instructor was apparently seeing the young widow on a regular basis.

"Hot date tonight?" Peter asked as he dragged mats back to the side of the room.

Khan nodded shyly as he picked up another of the mats to help.

Peter commented, "You seem to be getting along well."

The grin was back along with another nod.

"You know I've had some requests for more classes. With the kids back to school, a lot of the parents are asking for after school classes to leave the weekends free for family time. Do you think you could handle a few of those?"

A shrug and a nod this time. It was like trying to have a conversation with Marcel Marceau.

"What about the gym?" Peter asked.

Master Khan was still helping out a friend at a local gym by doing janitorial duties and such, but more and more of his time had switched over to Peter's Kwoon. Khan's head did a little dance as if uncertain. Peter pressed a bit more. "I can't pay as much as Mike was paying you, but we have lots of room here. If you moved into one of the rooms on the third floor, you wouldn't have to be paying out any rent. And I could use someone to keep an eye on the place and on Wah Chen when I'm not here. Besides, Chen still thinks he's cooking for his 5 brothers and makes enough rice to feed the Chinese Army. It would be like having our own little temple group."

Khan smiled at him, nodding again. "All right," he added without elaborating.

Peter slapped him on the back. "Pick out a room you like. The ones facing the street tend to be noisier. I'll help you clean it out tomorrow morning. How about we work out a possible class calendar over tea before my class gets here?"

The two headed up to Peter's rooms but then Peter stopped suddenly as something occurred to him. "Master Khan, persuading you to move in here went easier than I thought it would. Tell me, is there something that you know that I don't?"

Master Khan shook his head. "Mystery and vision are your father and the Ancient's specialties. I'm just a warrior for peace, Peter."

Satisfied, Peter nodded and went back to discussion of his plan for new classes as they climbed.

************************

"Kermit? Busy?"

"No, Chief, I'm just hacking my way into the Federal Reserve. Thought I'd buy myself a new suit," Kermit answered, not looking up from his computer.

"Oh yeah, that'll be the day, " said Strenlich. "New car might be a better idea. Forensics are in. You were right, the brake lines were slashed deliberately."

Kermit stopped his typing to turn and take the papers the Chief held out to him. "Finger prints?"

"Just yours. By the way, the FBI says to consider you armed and dangerous. Your lip is looking better," the chief added, closing the door as he came in to sit down on the guest chair.

Kermit reached up to gently probe his swollen lower lip. He'd caught it on the steering wheel when his car had finally smacked into a concrete retainer at the end of the parking garage he'd ducked into when he realized his brakes were gone. His own front end damage was minimal; that was more than could be said for his precious Corvair. It was bad; possibly terminal. He knew where to place the blame.

"Your wife flip out when she saw it was you?"

"No, she likes to save that sort of thing for later when she's not being professional, but I think she's getting tired of treating my ties for blood stains. Three dozen EMT's in this burg, and Snow's unit rolls up at my latest humiliation. Wonder what those odds are?" Kermit mused aloud as he started some mental math to satisfy his curiosity.

"She did a great job with Kelly that time at Chandlers. The city's lucky to get her on board. So, any idea who wanted you dead?" the chief asked.

It was a laughable question. "Those who don't want me dead would be a much shorter list. I could run you a printout, but you'd need to order more computer paper. No, if someone really wanted me dead, I'd be in a thousand tiny pieces. This was just a little message from Bon Bon Hai, Chief."

"Mercenary instincts or is there something you'd like to share with me, Detective?"

"Could be payback for the trouble I've been causing him lately," he grinned at his superior. "Internet money transfers going astray. A nice piece of valuable property deeded over to the Homeless Shelter. His e-mail service interrupted. Problems with his shipments. Possible frostbite when I messed with the computer controlled climate system in his office. Plus a few other minor irritations. I've been a naughty boy."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear any of that. Any of this likely to come back at you in the form of a lawyer with a writ?"

"Chief," Kermit admonished, "Please, I know I was careless enough to let my car be tampered with but I'd never do anything...traceably illegal."

"Yeah, well being a pain in the ass is something you excel at, Griffin and being a pain in Bon Bon Hai's ass is just fine with me. But if you can't make a case against him that will hold up in court, I'd rather you dog him on your own time. Captain order this?"

Kermit shook his head negatively. "Wasn't ready to go to Simms yet. Nothing else on my docket is being neglected, is it?"

"Not that I can see. Is this personal? Because of Snow? I know she ID'd Hai from a photo, but from what she said, Hai wasn't behind it."

"Hai is behind everything that's wrong in Chinatown, one way or another. He either controls it outright or takes a hefty percentage. Either way, the Tiger feasts on the hapless and the innocent. He's also after Caine and he won't stop until both Peter and his father are dead. Promised Paul I'd keep Peter safe. I intend to keep that promise."

"Okay. Just keep me informed of anything you think I should know. Document your evidence. I'd like to be able to arrest someone eventually, if only for your widow's sake."

It made him smile. "There's a file on my hard drive with your name on it. Password is Kelly if you ever need to access it, but I'd better be dead before you lay a hand on my computer."

"Fair enough."

The chief looked like he was going to get up but then hesitated. "Kermit, about the other night..."

"Thought we settled that."

"We did. Just wanted to make sure we were okay. Your relationship with the Captain is your business."

"It's in the past. Just keep in mind, I can go from zero to complete ass in sixty seconds. Not something I'm proud of, but it happens. Could happen again."

"Yeah, well, for your information, I've lined up a class with Peter to show me a couple of ways to break that choke hold."

Strenlich had a small smile playing over his lips. Kermit winced as he carelessly grinned back, "In that case, I'll go straight for my gun next time."

"Do that. I'd like to see the look on Snow's face when they're called to extract it. There are some benefits to out-weighing the competition."

Strenlich got up. "Don't forget you promised Jody that matrix on drug-bust conviction percentages."

He sauntered out, closing the door behind him. Kermit went back to extracting information from the data base on line as he spoke softly to himself, "that's thirty six units, times, say two hundred emergency calls per shift, divided by...Ummm. If only I could pick a winner with those odds in Vegas!"

************************************

Bon Bon Hai watched the wind skitter a flock of wizened leaves across the pavement in the museum courtyard. Here inside, behind him, the reception was in full swing, laughing voices, buzzing conversations, the occasional clink of champagne flutes or silverware. He stood with his back to the bright gathering, alternately focusing on the wind's efforts to sweep the city streets and the reflections on the huge panes of glass. Like images distorted in carnival mirrors, the finest of the city's society revealed their twisted cores to him in the museum's windows; elite, wealthy, respectable and absorbed in only themselves. They disgusted him. Not for what they were, but for their complete lack of ambition. Why bother to take power if one didn't bother to use it for anything other than the acquisition of material goods? They were insignificant and unworthy of his company or attention.

He'd missed the last grand opening the museum had hosted for an exhibit of Asian Antiquities. An eventful evening, by all accounts. The proceedings had been interrupted by a group of inept burglars trying to steal the riches from beneath the noses of the city's assembled police guard and glitterati. Pity. It would have been more interesting than this tedious gathering. However, he could see that blowing up this kind of affair did have it's own appeal. He should have had someone wire the place just for his own amusement.

"It is your own tortured soul you should examine closely," suggested someone behind him.

His voice was soft, dry, almost like a piece of discarded leather, flapping in a hot wind. The Ancient must be standing directly behind him so his reflection would not show in the darkened glass, Hai realized. He turned about slowly, to face the elder, bowing slightly for the benefit of any casual observers.

"How pleasant you could honor the museum with your presence this evening, Old One. It must be difficult for you to find the time in your busy schedule of meddling with forces you can not begin to comprehend."

The Ancient gave him a small, condescending smile. "It is my duty to attend, but I cannot understand why you would bother to come here. Everyone knows your true nature..."

"Which is why they fear me," Hai interjected.

Lo Si continued as if the Tiger had not growled. "...which is why you stand alone in a crowd. Perhaps your time would be better used in places you are more welcome."

"I was invited, as you were, Ancient. A respect accorded to me for my position in the community."

"Respect is earned," Lo Si chided him. "As you said, you were invited because they feared not to."

"And your point, old one?" Lo Si spread his hands wide. "Your invitation was purchased with fear. Such commerce has no reward. Your chosen path has brought you earthly power but your soul is desolate. There can be no redemption; in the end, you will stand like this. Alone."

The Ancient's small bow as he left derided any respect the Tiger's standing demanded; his crafty glance, an obvious mockery. He was being toyed with, but to what end, pondered the Tiger. The Ancient wished him to leave. Why?

He set his empty glass on a passing tray and picked up the fresh drink that was immediately offered in it's place. Then he turned back to the windows, disturbed by the exchange. He was missing something.

As he stared at his reflection, a wind-whipped blast of rain pelted the glass, blurring his image briefly. It took on a shadowy form and in seconds he realized he was looking at a likeness that was not his own, but that of his master, the Dark Warrior. Elation gripped him. The Master hadn't contacted him in a long while, not since he'd been abandoned when the Caines had defeated the master's bid for freedom and sent the Dark Warrior back to his prison. With his Master's downfall had gone the power that had surged through him as the Dark Warrior's instrument, leaving behind an unquenchable thirst for it's return.

"Master," hissed Hai, quietly, to not disturb anyone who might be close enough to hear. "What do you wish of me?"

There was no verbal answer, but behind the Warrior the dark reflection shimmered and lightened. The blurred image grew, then sharpened into a large rectangular object. Hai stared at it. It appeared to be a carving of some sort.

The Warrior began to fade away. "Wait," Hai whispered. "I do not understand."

The image of the artwork got clearer, more distinct. There was a scene in the carving. A temple, a garden and fish. And, over all, a radiant sun.

Then the image faded too, leaving only the darkened window pane with the courtyard and it's ghostly ballet of dead, rain-soaked leaves beyond.

Hai battled the frustration he felt. His master was trying to tell him something important and he was not up to the job. There was no greater disgrace than being a disappointment.

There had to be something significant about the art piece he'd been shown and it had to be here or his master wouldn't have appeared here, tonight. He turned back to the party and set his untouched glass of champagne down on a convenient table as he walked through the gathering.

He followed the meandering groups as they stood chatting about the main room and down the hall way to the gallery where the collection was assembled. It hadn't interested him enough to even look at the display, but now he carefully searched for the image seared onto his memory from the vision.

It didn't take long to find it. It was big. He moved closer to examine the placard that described it. A Tang Dynasty mirror; very old. He closed his eyes and felt the energy that emanated from the beautiful artifact. Very powerful.

He opened his eyes and walked to examine the delicate scene on the back of the great mirror. There, shining over the peaceful scene engraved in bas relief on the metal, was the rayed, knotted sun of Shambhala.

Ecstasy surged again. This had to be another portal; another way into the mythic dimension. And if he could figure out how to open it, then he could find a way to free his master once more.

He continued to walk around the grand artifact until he reached the front of the mirror to see his reflection in the burnished metal. Once again, his image blurred until that of the Dark Warrior became superimposed upon his own. There was no doubt, this was the purpose of the vision. "Thank you, my Master," he murmured, "Once again you have darkened my brightness."

As the specter faded again, he felt a prickle of discomfort at the back of his neck. No need to turn to see the Ancient behind him in the doorway, glaring at him. "Too late, old man, I have seen it and we both know what it is," he whispered.

He smiled charmingly at the elder as he bowed slightly in a mocking reprisal of the old one's earlier bow to him. Lo Si disappeared from the mirror's reflection as the Ancient slipped away without further exchange.

Obtaining it would not be easy, but it certainly wasn't impossible, Hai considered. He knew who to contact. Efficient men. Expensive, but efficient. Choi's old laundry building was still empty and would be an ideal place to keep the artifact since the real estate was held by a dummy company that could not be traced back to him if it were discovered.

Satisfied, he turned and headed for the coat check to retrieve his outerwear. There was no time to lose in attending to his master's bidding.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Here she comes! Blake, get that camcorder up!"

"I have it right where it needs to be, Mary Margaret," Blake insisted as he tracked the car pulling into the driveway from his vantage on the porch.

"There won't be any retakes on this. It's a once in a lifetime occasion," Skalany reminded him as she aimed her camera.

"So was the time I caught Louie the Hammer taking pot shots at the mayor. I managed to catch enough to put him behind bars for a of couple decades. I think I can handle some simple baby shots, Detective."

Mary Margaret lowered her camera long enough to give him a pained expression. "Not exactly the same thing, Blake."

He shrugged. "Both Kodak moments in my opinion. Don't forget to turn your flash on there."

Jody snickered a bit behind one hand; the first sign of relaxation Peter had seen in her all evening. "Those two remind me of Laurel and Hardy," he whispered in her ear, encouraging a smile.

"More like Abbott and Costello I'm thinking. No sophisticated sight gags, just witty dialog. Should be a cream pie or a pratfall any time now."

Pleased she was lightening up at last, he gave her a reassuring hug. She'd been radiating anxiety since he'd arrived at her apartment to pick her up. Skalany was supposed to have picked her up for the party and then driven her to the airport later tonight but Mary Margaret's car ended up at the shop. He insisted on giving her a ride, telling her, "I don't care how late your flight is. You can just come over for a cup of tea and enjoy the solarium while you wait. Skalany can ride over to Simm's with Blake. Her place is on his way."

Simm's party would probably break up early, he surmised as he watched the beaming Captain step from Detective Chin's car, carrying her precious burden cradled in her car seat. She'd want to get the baby into a routine as soon as possible. "Welcome home! Don't you just love babies?" Mary Margaret whooped, clicking madly away with her camera.

A chorus of "welcome's" followed with a smattering of spontaneous applause. They moved aside as Karen made her way up the porch stairs to stop before Peter, a glint in her eye. "A blessing from my favorite priest, perhaps?" she asked him.

He smiled, swallowing back the fleeting discomfort of all eyes in his direction, as he raised his hands. This was a duty of his profession; he'd best get used to it. "May your home be blessed with peace and tranquility....although when a baby is involved, there will probably be blessed little of either," he grinned at her.

She laughed aloud and he knew he'd chosen the right tack. He reached to hold the door open for her and they all trooped in. The pink decorations had apparently been recycled from an earlier party at the precinct, according to Jody, but they looked like new against the sleek, modern decor Simms had chosen for her new home. She'd bought the house months ago in anticipation of her return to motherhood.

"So where's this new nanny we've heard so much about?" asked Skalany, still taking pictures.

Simms had set the car seat down on the couch and was carefully extracting the infant, cooing occasionally to her new daughter. "She's moving in tomorrow," Simms informed them, "I wanted tonight just for us."

"A wonderful idea," Peter assured her as he reached a careful finger to chuckle the baby under her chin, pleased with the smile it got him. "I'm more interested in what this little peanut is going to be called. Mary Doe just doesn't seem right anymore."

The baby giggled and grabbed his finger. "You still have it with the ladies, Peter Caine," said Karen softly.

Then, louder, she announced, "I'm still not certain about a name. Both Chloe and Zoe are in the lead but I thought that after living with my daughter for a few days I'd be better able to tell which one suits her best. Until then, she's Baby or Mary, I guess."

"It's the last name that's important, anyway," said Blake.

Simms beamed broadly. "Exactly, Detective. Thank you for that reminder. Would you like to hold Baby Simms?" she asked the fussy little detective who began to back away but not quickly enough.

With a swift step, she positioned herself in front of Blake and, before he could protest, precisely placed the child in his arms, then stepped back. His look of panic was immediately replaced with a gaze of wonderment as the baby focused solely on him. Doing what nine month old babies do best, she charmed him with a gleaming, baby-toothed smile and then promptly snagged his glasses from his face. "Whoops," Simms chastised, as she retrieved the glasses and slid them back in place, "Sorry. Manners are an on-going project."

Blake was grinning from ear to ear. "She's perfect as she is, Captain. Just perfect."

"Well, for those of you who are hungry, the buffet is open," announced Kelly from the door of the dining room.

Blake relinquished the baby to her new mother saying, "That's my cue. Here you go, Mom. I have to keep my blood sugar up."

The captain looked to Jody saying, "You next?"

Jody held out her arms. "Absolutely. My blood sugar is fine. Let me have that little sweetie."

Taking the baby, she sat down in a nearby rocker and began to sing quietly to baby, who was apparently mesmerized by the sound.

Peter scooped up the camera his former partner had abandoned in favor of joining the food line and, backing up a bit, snapped the charming scene. Captain Simms came to stand by him and said in a low voice, "Giving you ideas, Caine?"

Peter smiled. "Plenty. But we're not that far yet."

"What's this? Peter Caine taking it slow?"

"It's prudent when you're forging into new territory. Or in some cases, re-exploring old territories. I see many of the same problems with Jody as I had with Jordan."

"Traded one hot-shot cop for another?"

He shrugged. "In a way. But Jody and I have a different relationship. We began as friends a long time ago. Neither of us are sure we're willing to change that."

"Friendship is a precious commodity. Sometimes it's a better alternative to what you're left with if things go wrong."

Peter reached out with his Shaolin senses. His question was only one word to confirm what he felt. "Kermit?"

"I was hoping he'd change his mind and come to the party; or at least that his...wife...would come. If only for appearances' sake. Is he ever going to forgive me, Peter?"

"I think Kermit has more trouble forgiving himself. He respects you."

Simms shifted as if uncomfortable and gazed out the window, not looking at him. "He respects my position, my job. I've tried to reach out to him but he never says a word to me anymore that isn't strictly business."

"He can be like granite sometimes."

She glanced at him. "What are you trying to tell me? That he's a cold-hearted bastard? Yes, I've seen him like that. But I've seen his softer side too, you know."

Peter reached out to hold her by her shoulders, compelling her to face him. "Kermit is a bundle of discord and disharmony. He's been forced to distrust everyone and everything just to survive. Don't judge him by ordinary standards and don't expect him to keep an ordinary timetable. One day, when you least expect it, he'll crack a joke or a smile and you'll know he's managed to overcome that defense mechanism of his. Until then, just go on being the kind of person you want to be. If he can't respond to that, it's his problem, not yours. You have enough on your plate, Captain Mommy."

Peter could feel his words reach her, calming her troubled mind. "You're getting pretty good at this priest stuff, Peter. I may have to look into the Buddhist religion more closely."

"On you, the beads will look great, but I'm not sure about the shaved head....just kidding," he assured her with a wink,

"Come on, let's go see what Blake left behind on the buffet. I'm getting mortally tired of Wah Chen's rice. You need to keep your strength up too. You could be in for a long night."

He headed for the dining room and she trailed behind him asking, "Caine? Is there something about tonight you want to tell me? Have you seen something I should know? Caine...?"

**************************************

Relaxed and soft beside him, she was no longer the tense and jumpy Jody of the party a few hours before. Peter lay quietly, afraid to move, not willing to give up this most perfect and peaceful moment. He hadn't planned for this to happen, but once they got started, it seemed like the right thing to do and he was glad of it. It answered questions that needed answering for him and for Jody. He didn't need his Shaolin senses to tell him it was as good for her as it had been for him. All his instincts and skills as an accomplished lover told him that.

"I could just call my mom and cancel the trip. Spend my two weeks here, with you," she offered, confirming what he'd been thinking.

"Uh, uh," he grunted negatively, cuddling her, "That's a tempting thought, but you still have issues with your mother you need to work out and this is the ideal time for a visit. No big holidays to distract you; no other family members interrupting. Go and talk with her. I'll be here when you get back."

He kissed her again to let her know that he wasn't sending her away. Feeling her melting into the kiss, he let himself respond in kind. "Wow," she breathed softly when he released her, "You do that again and I will end up missing my plane."

"We have plenty of time," he assured her as he reached to pull her closer.

He heard the quiet voices in the hall long before the gentle tapping on his locked bedroom door. He wasn't pleased at the interruption and neither was Jody; there was no hiding that. It was good that it was happening now though. She needed to understand. "This is my life," he explained without apology as he pulled away from her, reaching for his robe. "I'm like a doctor; always on call. That won't change, Jody. It's something to think about."

He didn't give her a chance to comment or argue. In an attempt to shield her from prying eyes, he blew out the single candle at the head of his futon that had romantically lit their haven. Securely tying his robe shut, he unlocked the door, cracking it wide enough to slip out into the dimly lit hall. Wah Chen bowed low. "I'm sorry, Master Caine. I told her you had retired for the evening," he explained, presenting the woman behind him, "but she insisted."

Behind him stood a frightened and trembling Ahn Li Wong.

"What's wrong?"

"I am sorry to bother you so late, Master Caine but I did not know what else to do. I have made a grave error."

Peter gestured to the solarium. "Ahn Li, why don't you wait in there while I put on something more appropriate? Chen?"

"Yes, Master," Wah Chen sighed, "I know. I will put on the tea kettle."

The boy ushered their guest away and Peter slipped back into the room. Jody had relit the candle and was almost dressed again. He put his arms around her, stopping the clothing progress as he admired her black lacy bra once again. "How long have you had this?"

"Oh, since about 7th grade. I developed early."

"I meant the undies. Have you always worn such girly stuff under your plain little suits and stodgy slacks?"

"Only since I met you. I believe in being prepared," she grinned at him.

"Noted and appreciated. Did you hear any of ...?"

She nodded. "Want me as back-up? Or should I just call a taxi and get out of your hair now?"

"I like you in my hair. And in my bed, in case you didn't notice, but I'd appreciate if you'd come and listen. I can always use a second opinion." "Okay with me. You know I'm opinionated."

He dropped his robe and reached for the clothing he'd discarded in hastily abandoned heaps on the floor. After he was dressed, Jody blew out the candle as they left the room.

Ahn Li waited alone, huddled miserably in a large, softly padded chair. He could hear Wah Chen's progress in the kitchen area. "Ahn Li, you remember my friend, Detective Powell? I thought it might help if she listened in, if you don't mind," he told her.

She looked a bit put out by Jody's presence but nodded. His Shaolin senses tingled with the caged annoyance emanating from the girl. What was she up to, he wondered. "Start from the beginning," he instructed her as he sat down on the sofa, next to Jody.

"We..., I mean, some of the girls from the bakery, decided that we would like to see the new Jackie Chan movie that is playing at The Emporium. It is not too far away and I thought it would be all right if I was with a group. It has been so boring being inside all the time, working or eating or sleeping," she explained.

Peter nodded. He'd expected that sooner or later the spoiled girl would chafe at her confinement, even if it was for her own good.

"Well, someone must have seen me, even though I walked with my head down and was careful. When we got out of the movie, a car followed us. We got scared and split up but it was following me. I sent the other girls away so they wouldn't get hurt and I ran as fast as I could to come here. It is parked out front now."

"Do you think it's your husband?" Jody asked.

The girl shook her head. "No. I would recognize his car and he would try to make me come home if it was Jack. But I am certain it is someone who knows him. If I try to return to the bakery, he will follow and then he will go and tell Jack where I am. I am afraid to go back now. I do not want to cause you trouble, Master Caine, but I did not know where else to go."

"You did the right thing. Don't worry, we'll find a way to get you back without being discovered," Peter assured her.

"Couldn't I just stay here where I am safe?" she begged.

"That's the problem, Ahn Li. You aren't safe here," he told her. "Your safety lies in your remaining hidden. Jack will come if he thinks you're here and he'll use your presence here in a very low, very vulgar way. We must get you back to the bakery and this time, you must stay inside until your lawyer tells you it's safe."

"I have an idea," Jody offered. "The suitcases I brought over earlier. There's one big enough to hold one little chick. Let's empty it out and put her in it. When we leave for the airport, it'll just be me, you and the bags. Whoever is watching won't leave if he thinks Ahn Li is still here. If he sees someone walking around up here--a short person, say like Chen--he'll think she's staying here while you get rid of me. Of course, you'll have to send my clothes on the next plane, Peter."

"Perfect. I'll go get the bag. Thanks, Jody."

He might have imagined the dark look Ahn Li gave Jody as he left the room, or the smug smile she gave in return, but there was no mistaking the snarling cat fight that simmered just within Shaolin sense range. Perhaps Ahn Li was mistaking his help for something more than it was. He'd have to find a way to make it clear to her that he was only doing what any priest would do and that he had no personal motivations.

**************************************

Karen Simms gently placed her new daughter in her crib with a small sigh of relief. She'd forgotten how long it could take to quiet a cranky baby and soothe her to sleep. Some experts recommended just putting the baby to bed and letting them cry it out but her nerves were not ready for that kind of stand-off. Not tonight.

Besides, it gave her a chance to hold and soothe her daughter and after raising a son, seeing how fast those baby years went, she was going to hold her little girl as much and as often as she possibly could.

"You're going to be a bit spoiled, my dear, but not awfully so, I promise," she said softly to the sleeping babe, running her finger ever so gently down her daughter's cheek.

After checking to see the monitor was on, she retreated to the doorway and leaned on it, watching her baby sleep, unwilling to leave just yet. As Peter predicted, she knew these moments, precious moments, would be few and fleeting. It seemed like just last year she'd been doing the same, watching Todd sleep and yet, he was a man now and one she hardly knew. All the years of separation imposed by the cruel man she'd loved and married and divorced and hated had left their toll on her relationship with her son. Things between them were improving but still not what they should be. "I won't let us be that way, my little girl. Not again. Never again," she vowed to herself.

Mary's mother was dead, her father, unknown. No one could ever come between them, separate them. It was a second chance for her and this time, she'd be the mother she knew she could be.

She finally forced herself to close the door on the slumbering baby and trailed through the late-night dimness of her new home to go sit in the rocker in the front room, gazing out at the quiet residential street. Not ready to sleep yet, she sat quietly in the dark and examined her feelings. Excitement. It was going to be wonderful to watch this little girl grow up. Anticipation for all the things they could share, from shopping to...heavens!...her daughter's first kiss. It was like having a second chance at life. And, finally, love. She realized she loved this child from the first moment she'd held her.

But there was some sorrow mixed in. There was no one...special to share all this with. She'd always hoped to marry again, even with her career plans. There had to be a man out there who would appreciate a strong woman who needed some tenderness in her life. Someone who could participate, not control. Someone she could care for.

Her thoughts turned to the one man she'd hoped could fill that need in her. But she'd messed things up royally by exerting her own form of control, trying to do things on her terms alone. There'd be no second chances with him now. She sighed, feeling a deep weariness. Peter was right. She had too many other, more important things to deal with.

Rising from the rocking chair , she walked through the house one more time to check that all was secure. With a last peek at her daughter, she retreated to her bedroom. Tomorrow would probably start earlier than her usual Sunday mornings. She could hardly wait.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"This is getting to be a habit with you, Mr. Blythe, losing your exhibits," Kermit said as he strolled up to the fussy little curator. "It's not going to look well on your resume."

"Oh heavens, my resume is the least of my worries," Blythe moaned as he mopped his brow, "The museum's reputation is at stake here. If this keeps up, no one will be willing to loan us anything."

They stood in front of a roped off display area, the center of which was unfortunately empty. Kermit leaned over to read the placard that proclaimed the space to be occupied by a Tang Mirror: Brass and jade. A white-gloved team from forensics was going over the area with magnifying glasses and tweezers under the watchful eyes of a group of uniformed officers and museum security guards.

"You have a picture, of course?" Kermit questioned him.

Blythe nodded. "Yes, in my office. This way," he gestured for Kermit to accompany him.

"What's the value?" came the next question as Kermit took out a note pad.

"Only a few thousand. That's the strange thing about all this. Whoever these burglars were, and there had to be a least a couple since it weighs a few hundred pounds, they passed up several more valuable and certainly more portable items."

Kermit noted the information. "It sounds like they had it targeted for a particular reason. Perhaps for a very narcissistic private collector?"

Blythe shook his head. "I'm lost for an explanation, Detective Griffin. I only hope you can recover it since it's bound to cause some problems in our diplomatic relations with China. Not to mention what's going to happen to our insurance premiums," he sighed dejectedly.

The curator offered Kermit a chair when they got to his office and then sat down behind his desk, reaching for a thick file from a drawer. "Here it is."

He handed Kermit a couple of color 8 by 10's of an elegant, but obviously very old mirror. The frame was beautifully molded of metal, with inlaid chunks of carved jade or ivory, formed into fantastical shapes of fish and other water creatures. At the top was a deep, circular indentation, as if some decoration had been pried out. The second picture showed the back of the mirror, a far more ornate design than the front which was intended to be kept hidden when the mirror wasn't in use. It was an elaborate bas-relief of a temple on a hill surrounded by a terraced water garden. Lovely, but not so very special, Kermit thought to himself. Why would anyone be interested in an old mirror? There was something familiar about the setting sun behind the pagoda. A rayed sun with a knotwork center.

There were Chinese characters on the back of one photo. He glanced at them. "Got a translation on this?" he asked.

Mr. Blythe ran his finger down a page of text from the file. "I believe that's the name of the mirror. It was designated as the Shambhala Mirror from what I can tell here. That's a mythic realm of peace..."

Kermit interrupted, "I know."

Blythe eyed him for a second. "Yes," he agreed, "you would."

"Can I get copies of these?" he requested, indicating the photos.

Blythe nodded, "Take them. We have another set on file. Do you have any hope of finding this before it disappears on the black market?"

Any hope? Kermit gave a small smile. "Oh, yeah."

*****************************************

His first inclination was to adopt his usual method: going to the computer and looking for information on the net. He'd managed to amass quite a bit of intelligence about Shambhala when Peter had him search out data on a strange bit of antique crystal some time ago. However, there was another source of information; this one, a bit closer to home, probably more accurate, but undoubtably more cryptic. Kermit drove past the precinct building and headed deeper into Chinatown. His arrival at the Ancient's apartment was timely. The old man was defending himself admirably from an attack by three thugs, one of whom had wised up enough to back out of range of flying fists and was pulling out his gun.

Kermit didn't bother with niceties; he ran his car right up onto the sidewalk and propelled the armed punk straight into a fence. His two colleagues retreated from their humiliation at the hands of the old man to seize their stunned companion, dragging him into a still-running car.

Pulling out his gun, Kermit snapped off a few well-aimed shots which thudded into the trunk of the sedan as it burned rubber. "You have an new car?" asked the Ancient, as he relaxed his martial arts stance.

Tucking the DE back into his waistband, Kermit eyed the serene old man. "It's a rental; mine's in the shop. Any idea what that was all about?"

Lo Si nodded at him, "They came seeking information, just as you have. However, I trust that you will be more polite when you ask. I regret you were required to damage this fine vehicle in my defense. I was in no real danger."

Damage? Not again, Kermit thought as he came around to inspect what the Ancient was tsking over. The hubcap lay where it had rolled into the street and the wheel rim was clearly bent. A tiny handful of starry orange shards littered the sidewalk from a parking light that had apparently shattered on contact with the armed thug.

"Perhaps some tea?" the Ancient offered.

"I have a feeling that won't fix it," Kermit answered, rubbing a finger over a deep groove in the hood, "although I've tasted some of your brews that could remove the rest of this paint job."

"It may not help, but it will not hurt."

"Promise?"

Lo Si gestured towards the open door so he shrugged, and, leaving the car parked half on the walkway, followed the old man into the apartment. The front room was strewn with paper, ink bottles, brushes and several large banners filled with Chinese characters. "I am working on some decorations for the Moon Festival. You should bring Snow. She would enjoy it," the old man explained as he took a whistling kettle from a back burner.

Kermit looked at the clutter. It was chaos on a grand scale, but meticulously organized. "I'm sure she'll want to come if she's not on a late shift. I take it you didn't invite them in for tea?"

Lo Si smiled as he poured. "I did not wish to destroy my hard work so I went willingly with them until we were well outside."

"You took a big chance. That one had a gun."

The Ancient shrugged casually. "I knew you would arrive in time."

Lo Si's look challenged him to question the statement, but Kermit knew better than to pursue the matter. "So, what is it I want to know?"

"About the mirror."

He took the cup the old man handed him and sniffed experimentally. It was rather minty smelling so he braved a sip. Not bad. Lo Si went to sit in his favorite rocker so Kermit moved a stack of papers from the couch, perching on the edge of the cushions and sipped some more, waiting for the Ancient to elaborate. "It is a portal to Shambhala," Lo Si confessed, "He recognized it last night with the help of his master, the Dark Warrior. I did not think he would move so quickly to acquire it or I would have contacted you."

"The Dark Warrior? Forgive me, Lo Si, you're losing me already. Wasn't he utterly destroyed by Caine? Least that's how I understand it went down from Peter. Which part of utterly destroyed did I fail to understand?"

Lo Si shook his head and cast his eyes to the floor, his posture betraying his discomfort. Taking a long breath, he clasped his hands together and looked up at his guest. "We were gravely mistaken. The Dark Warrior took the battle to his own dominion. Although Kwai Chang Caine was triumphant, the essence of his evil was merely scattered. The monks were forced to gather the remnants of his being and once again confine him in their realm. They have been vigilant, but his power is great, his evil influence far reaching. Even from his prison, he could touch the soul of his minion in this realm."

"I take it we're talking about Bon Bon Hai?" Kermit asked.

Lo Si nodded once in acknowledgement.

"Is it too late to stop him?"

"He cannot use the portal without the key and he cannot use the key without the guardians of the key."

Kermit nodded. Made sense. Critical accesses should have keys and locks. It took a carved crystal to unlock the Shambhala Book; no doubt the mirror used a similar item. "Do you know where this key is kept?"

Lo Si smiled that crafty smile. It gave him chills. "Of course."

"Can Hai get to it?"

"It is in two halves. One half is... vulnerable."

Getting solid information from the old one was like trying to pull a size seven foot out of a size five shoe. "And the other?" he pressed.

The smile hadn't left the Ancient. "Is safe in your pocket."

For a moment he thought it might be the tea that was making him sick but he realized it was his own flooding emotions swamping him. The Gryphon pendant, the one Old Ping Hai had given Snow as a young woman, a jade yin and yang in two pieces that fit together like a man and a woman--that was the key to the mirror.

"You devious old bastard," he breathed softly, pulling out the white jade pendant he had taken to carrying these days, looking over the carefully detailed little monster that seemed so pure and innocent in his hand.

Then he looked back to the Ancient whose face remained inscrutable. He'd have thought the old man would have the decency to be offended at least, if not ashamed. Shoving the jade back into his pocket he asked, "Why did you choose her?"

"I did not," Lo Si insisted. "I was merely the.....messenger. It has always been her destiny."

"Don't give me destiny. It's her gift, right? Somehow you can use her because of her gift?"

"You do not understand. She was not selected for her virtues or her talent. She is what she is because of her ancestry. She was bred, created for this role, as have been others of her bloodline."

It was outrageous, pushing him past anger. He smacked down the cup onto a banner, heedless of the splashes that rained on the delicate calligraphy and surged to his feet. "Is this what you Shambhala Masters do? Breed people like livestock, to serve your purposes? She's not some prize bitch in a Shambhala kennel. And she's not going to be part of this. I'll help you nail Hai and make absolutely sure he's locked away and out of mischief for the rest of his life, but Snow is not going to be anyone's pawn in some mystical chess game. This is not negotiable, understand?"

Lo Si sighed as he mopped up the spilled tea with a handy rag. "You fail to understand. This is not about Bon Bon Hai. He is merely the tool of a far greater enemy. One who must be stopped at all costs. The Dark Warrior stirs and it is Peter who must fight this time for the Light of Order and Right."

"So now you're dragging Peter into this? Have you bothered to ask him how he feels about it?"

"Peter will do what he must when it necessary. He is Shaolin. He recognizes the danger."

"Fine. He's a big boy and can take of himself. I can take care of Snow and myself. You will leave her out of this. Now, do you know where Hai is keeping the mirror?"

"I do not."

"Then I'm out of here."

He whirled and stalked towards the door.

"Kermit."

He didn't know why he stopped. The Ancient had pushed him to the limits of his good behavior and he was ready to do damage to anything that got in his way. Perhaps the old man used some of his Shambhala mind tricks on him to make him obey. "What?"

"You do not need to look for the mirror. Bon Bon Hai will learn of the existence of the key and of it's guardians. He will come to you. Be wary."

He couldn't thank him for the warning; he was too angry. But he nodded and left. It was not the best time for a couple of uniformed police to have to deal with him but they were standing by his unconventionally parked car as he came out of the apartment. "Problem?" he snarled.

"Um, this your car, Detective?"

"No, it belongs to a rental company. They just let me drive it for an exorbitant percentage of my paycheck."

The cop looked young, probably new to the force. Kermit vaguely recognized the driver who was grinning at his partner, but not saying a word. No doubt he'd heard a few tales around the precinct and guessed what was about to happen.

The new man casually commented, "Well, next time, could you park it in a manner that's less likely to cause the good citizens to complain? No one's above the law. This makes us all look bad."

He wanted to punch someone earlier, but that particular someone was elderly and could probably drop-kick him over a house anyway. This kid was available and asking for it to boot. Well, it had been a while since he'd beefed up his reputation. Might as well break in the rookie at the same time.

Kermit grabbed him by the neck and shoved him up against the vehicle. "It's parked like this because I was busy running over one of three thugs who were trying to kidnap the Ancient. You've heard of the Ancient by now I'm sure--respected elder of the Chinese community? The good citizens would have a great deal more to complain about if I'd let those scumbags damage the Ancient, wouldn't they? Now I can think of a nice little out-of-the-way place I can park this car next time, but it'll be dark, a very tight fit and you'll probably be walking funny. Do I make myself clear, officer?"

"As crystal!" gasped the cop.

His partner was sniggering but composed himself when Kermit's attention was leveled in his direction. "You have something to add?"

"No, sir," the man said. "I think you park just fine. But I'd be obliged if you'd unhand my rookie before his lips start turning blue, Detective. I've got him half trained and I'd hate to have to start over with a fresh one."

Kermit let go of the one-handed throat hold and took a step back to let the man stagger back to his patrol car. Pulling out a notebook, he read off the license plate of the sedan and rattled out descriptions of the thugs. "If you find them, let me know and I'll file papers on them. Don't bother the Ancient; he'll just refuse to press charges and fill your ears with Taoist philosophy for half an hour. Should be a few slugs in the trunk of the sedan. They weren't worth shooting the tires out."

He didn't wait for any acknowledgment as he dropped into the driver's seat, revved the engine and squealed away. Strenlich would probably read him the riot act once he heard the gossip. It was unlikely the cop would file a grievance--his partner would just tell him it was a part of his initiation: you've been formally manhandled by our resident nutcase, welcome to the 101st.

It should have made him feel better, but it didn't.

*********************************************************

Fragrant threads of incense webbed the air about the Ancient as he sat, cross-legged on his meditation mat. Since Bon Bon Hai had stolen the Book of Shambhala, he'd lost his entrance to the Temple of the Masters. But, unlike the evil despot, he still had a way to the mysterious dimension. If he couldn't go to Shambhala, he could, in a way, bring Shambhala to him.

He breathed in the sweet, smoky scent, pulling the calming influence of the White Light all through his body to cleanse it as he called on the Masters. They came, stepping through the light. One pulled back his hood, the unasked questions in his eyes. "The Mirror is in the hands of the Dark Warrior's minion," Lo Si informed him.

The master nodded as he accepted this information. "And what of the Key and it's Guardians?"

"Safe. For now. Our warrior resists his destiny. He seeks to block the Keeper of her responsibility. I fear he is too much of this world to understand," Lo Si told him sadly.

"Then we must make him understand."

"If you push, he will resist. The key to this man is control; he must feel he is in control. He sees steps ahead and plans accordingly."

The Shambhala Master bowed and replaced his hood. "We shall help him align his plans to suit our needs. You must not be taken by the Dark Warrior's pawn."

"I will not," the Ancient assured him.

Apparently satisfied, the monks turned around and, as the light grew, stepped into it once again, disappearing as the light faded.

Rising gracefully, he went to his work table and began to sort through the herbs and exotic items that were stored in the shelves above. It was best to be prepared for the worst. After that, he needed to speak with Peter.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

It started as just a tingling at the back of his neck; that little dent where the vertebrae connected to his skull. He knew it wasn't his imagination because Radar sat up suddenly from where she'd been snoozing at his feet, under his computer desk. She didn't growl or seem overly concerned, just watchful which made it even more unsettling so he sent her away with a quick command. "Radar, go to Mommy. Go on. Bedroom. Now," he snapped.

Whatever it was, he'd make damn certain Snow would be protected. Nobody would challenge 100 pounds of snarling wolf hybrid. A quick tap on his keyboard put the screen into sleep mode, just in case.

The animal had barely cleared the door when a bright light appeared on the far wall. No reflection from anything on this plane of existence, this was a light so pure and so white, it dazzled him from looking directly into it even with his green shades firmly in place. It grew in both height and breadth until it filled the entire wall, dimming slightly as if unable to maintain it's power at that size. A slight breeze filled the room carrying the scent of exotic flowers along with a touch of sandalwood and the tang of ozone.

He watched them as they stepped slowly away from the light, as if strolling into another dimension was something they did every day. Who knew, maybe they did.

One thing was for sure, it didn't happen every day to him, especially not in his private den, in his oh-so-secure home. A cold trickle of sweat slid down the back of his neck as all his danger senses screamed out full alert. The white-robed figure in the middle stopped slightly ahead of his twin companions and shoved his hood back to stare at him. "You seek information about Shambhala."

Not a question, Kermit noted; a statement. The man's voice was deep with a rich timbre and slightly resonate as if part of him hadn't made it fully into this dimension. There was no sign in the man's voice, his eyes or his manner that told Kermit the man was bluffing. Two could play that game. He wasn't bad at the bluffing gambit himself.

Standing up, he leaned slightly towards the monk as if threatening him. "Don't you people ever knock? You could do with some manners. I have information about Shambhala."

The man smiled slightly. "But not the information you need to know."

"Are you certain? I have this, too."

Kermit held up the white jade Gryphon Pendant half. He observed with some satisfaction that the man's pupils widened for a second and his two companions bowed low from the waist at it's appearance.

"You possess it but cannot use it."

"I know what it is," Kermit smiled smugly at him, "I can find out how to use it."

"You cannot. It is irrevocably bound to her alone."

The smile melted from his lips and it was the monk's turn to smirk. To her alone. Snow. Lo Si was right--they'd probably come for her.

"She won't be part of this."

"She must. As you must."

That one came out of left field. He sat down again, trying to mask his surprise by adopting a relaxed pose. "But Bon Bon Hai has the mirror hidden."

The monk nodded as he turned towards the window that faced the computer. The garden was dressed in fall colors, with the occasional evergreen breaking through the dam of somber browns. "Eventually, he will discover how to access the portal. The trail will lead him here."

"I may have found a black hole in your logic."

The monk glanced over his shoulder. "What is this thing...a black hole?"

"A black hole. A void in space that devours all light, or in this case, your argument. That is, if my information is correct. I assume you can confirm or deny it's validity."

Tapping a couple of keys, he accessed some data he'd downloaded from an obscure file he'd trawled from the Internet on his previous investigation into the mythic dimension. "It says here the necklace was held by two, jointly, needing both to use it. The Yin held by a Princess of Light or Goodness; the translation is uncertain. The Yang held by the Dark Warrior; no question on that interpretation. The Dark Warrior title is very specific. The tome maintains that when the Dark Warrior is imprisoned, he cannot use the key. It's useless now and so is the mirror."

"There are two," the monk informed him cryptically, turning away from his perusal of the peaceful landscape.

"Two what?"

He made an effort to keep his tone even; the cryptic monk was enlightening but irritating.

"Two Dark Warriors. One works for evil, to spread chaos. The other is an agent of the White Light. Only the power of darkness can defeat darkness."

He could feel the heat of the monk's gaze even through his dark glasses. There was no doubting the meaning of the monk's words. "So, you need someone a little less pure to do your dirty work, do you,?" he said softly to the monk. "Sorry, I got out of the mercenary business a while back."

The monk shrugged. "We can find another to hold the White Gryphon. But the holder of the Black Gryphon goes with it and there is no other in this generation with the talents needed to command the keys. She holds the Black Gryphon until she passes it on to another at her death."

"You touch her and you die," Kermit snarled, on his feet again.

"Then take up the task and protect her," commanded the monk.

"I told you she wasn't part of this."

"That is not your decision. It is hers to make. You know what kind of person she is. She sees the larger picture, for the greater good. She will do what she was bred to do, what is required of her. As will you, eventually."

Kermit sat back down, unsure of his response. Snow would want to help if the threat to mankind was so dire, of that he was certain. She was, indeed, that kind of person, and he'd follow her into Hell if necessary to protect her. It infuriated him that these things had been put into motion without his knowledge, without his consent.

"You seem very certain of me."

She stood in the doorway, her arrival as silent as a wraith, startling even the mythic masters. Radar was at her side, calmly surveying the intruders; not approaching them as if they were welcome, but with no sign of aggression toward their unusual visitors either. The Black Gryphon hung about Snow's neck, stark against the pure white of the terry bathrobe she wore, an earthly counterpart to the shining robes of the Shambhala Masters. All three of the monks bowed to her as she moved to stand next to Kermit, deliberately violating his personal space, but not touching as if to underscore that she stood with him but still stood of her own accord. A swell of gratitude flooded into him and he knew she felt it from the brief smile she gave him.

He wasn't sure, but Kermit thought he saw a shadow of doubt cross the lead Master's face. Apparently, for all his bluff and bluster, there were still choices to be made here.

Snow continued, "I defer to my husband regarding matters which I do not fully understand. We will not be led blindly. I suggest you persuade him to your cause if you expect our cooperation."

Now the shorn-headed priest definitely looked disturbed, thought Kermit gleefully. He decided to put in his bid while the monk was still rattled. "If I can find the mirror, and prove Hai had it stolen, I can use Earthly justice to put him away for a very long time. He's an old man, unlikely to see the outside of a jail again. The Chinese government has a claim on him too, since it's their mirror and he's still a Chinese national. They're not known for their gentle approach to the punishment of transgressors. I dare say one who openly promotes the pre-revolutionary ideals would fare even worse. That would solve both our problems. Just help me find the mirror."

The monk shook his head. "The minion is your problem. He is of little consequence to us. It is the Dark Warrior himself whose power grows once more in our realm. Soon, he will find a way to escape his prison and the line of Caine must face him again."

"Since Kwai Chang Caine is on walkabout, location unknown, I assume you mean that Peter will have to fight this time."

"Yes, it will be be the younger Caine. He has grown stronger and is fully Shaolin now. Although, as he lent his strength to his father in their first battle with the Evil One, so, now others must lend their chi to Young Caine if he is to send the Dark Warrior to the dimension that will hold him powerless forever."

The monk looked meaningfully to Snow as he gave them this last bit of information.

"So you now dangle Peter's safety as a carrot to entice me to do your bidding, Master?" Snow asked.

The Shambhala master shrugged in a typical Shaolin way. "Without help, he has neither the strength nor the skill to defeat the Dark Warrior."

Kermit interjected, "You're so sure he'll agree to fight the Warrior again?"

"Of this, I am certain. Young Caine has been to our world, has faced the Dark Warrior and knows his power is a very real threat to your world. He will come. He will fight. And, if you do not aid him, he will die."

Snow was silent and Kermit knew why; she was waiting to hear what he decided for them both. She knew he couldn't abandon Peter. That is, if Peter actually decided to go to Shambhala. He needed to talk to Caine.

A thought occurred to him. "What happens to Bon Bon Hai if he is in Shambhala when the Dark Warrior is defeated?"

The monk shrugged again, obviously disinterested. "He would be in our power. We would return him."

"Could you keep him imprisoned there?"

The monk nodded. "But why should we? He is nothing to us."

"Perhaps because it's the price you pay for our aid? He wants the Caines dead; both of them. You'd have no one to fight your battles for you if anything happens to the line of Caine, right? It would be in all our interests to see that Hai's incarceration is irrevocable. Saves me a lot of paperwork too."

This time the monk nodded his assent. "To this, we can agree. However, you must arrange for Hai to come to Shambhala before the Dark Warrior can gain enough power to break free of his bonds. If Bon Bon Hai releases the Dark Warrior before his power is at it's zenith, the Warrior will be vulnerable to Caine's attack; he may need to take his minion's chi to challenge Young Caine. A creature such as Bon Bon Hai is inherently flawed. It will be the Dark Warrior's downfall."

"That's easy enough to do. Hai will be looking for the keys to the portal. All we have to do is let him find us and open it for him," Snow commented.

She looked down at Kermit and reached to take his hand. "I can't keep you out of this, can I?" he asked her.

She shook her head no. "But I trust you can keep me safe," she told him, squeezing his hand gently.

"Hai is a tough customer, babe. This isn't like anything you've faced before. You aren't trained for this. I'm not even sure I am."

"You promised me--whatever, together," she reminded him.

He'd promised it but he hadn't really meant it. He'd never put her in harm's way deliberately but this was exactly what he would have to do and he couldn't see any way to avoid it.

"He will not harm her," the monk assured them. "Only she can use the keys and he will need her to release his Master. You, however, Detective Griffin, will become a liability once the portal is open. He may leave you behind or he may arrange to bring you so the Dark Warrior can take your chi."

"I'm not that kind of guy."

The monk scowled. "This is serious."

"So am I," Kermit promised him, "so am I."

Dropping her husband's hand, Snow turned to the task, asking, "How do I use the keys?"

"Place them together in the indentation provided at the top of the mirror. You will know what to do next. The keys will tell you."

"And when we arrive in Shambhala, will you know we are there?"

To this the monk shook his head negatively. "We will not. Our borders are too great for us to guard them thoroughly. However, we will be able to sense when the Dark Warrior is liberated; we will feel his evil amongst us. Once in our realm, you must free yourselves and come to the temple's Great Hall. That is where the Dark Warrior will challenge Caine."

"How will we find our way to you or to Peter when the time comes for him to fight?"

"There will be a guide who will find you and lead you where you want to go. You need only to take hold of the pendant and ask."

Snow nodded, fingering the dark jade as if she could already sense what she needed to know. "Then you will excuse us," she requested, "I believe my husband and I need to talk."

All three monks bowed low again to her. "Until the appointed time," intoned the head monk.

With a wave of his hand, the white light flooded the room once more. He donned his hood again and the three paced into the brightness, their bodies fading like ghosts. With a last gust of wind the portal snapped shut, leaving them alone in the night again.

"My, people come and go so quickly around here," Snow quoted.

"This ain't Oz, sweetheart, and we aren't about to find a wizard to fix everything for us either," Kermit said seriously as he put his arms around her waist and pulled her into his lap. "Although, I should go looking for one to see if he can give me a new brain. Either that or it needs a new motherboard for me to even think of involving you in this."

"It's not as if you have a choice, love. I'm the one with the gift, the power to use these keys and the breeding. You're just the junkyard dog who gets to protect me, remember?"

Her tone was light but be knew this episode had shaken her. "Arf! Thanks. And, speaking of dogs," he said, looking over at Radar who was still sitting quietly in the doorway.

The wolf pricked up her ears when she realized she had her master's attention and padded over to lay her head in their laps. "Some guard dog you are. Led her right down here, didn't you, dummy? I'm locking the silverware up."

Snow stroked the animal's head. "It wasn't her fault. I was awake by the time she came in. I felt them arrive. I know you don't want this; I don't want it either, but there is a connection. I felt it. I felt them."

"We need to talk to Peter. The Ancient will know more, but if he says anything, it probably won't be impartial since he's one of them. I can't trust a thing he says right now. Peter can give us a better idea of what we're facing. Then I can make some plans to hedge my bets."

"How soon do you think Bon Bon Hai will come looking for us?" she asked.

Her voice was steady but he felt the tension in her body. "No telling. He's smart but even I never found anything about the pendants being the keys. Then again, I don't have his resources back in China. You're off work as of now. I'll call them tomorrow and explain it to them in cop terms. When you aren't with me, you're with Caine, 24/7. I don't want Hai taking you before I set some things up. If I can manage it, he won't get near you at all but if he does, it will be on my terms. You will follow my orders on this, no deviation, understand?"

She slid his glasses down slightly to look in his eyes as if checking to see how serious he was. "Okay," she agreed finally, "You're in charge, Griffin. Don't forget your promise though. Together. No deviation?"

"Together," he promised her as he reached to tap a few keys on his computer, shutting it down. "Come on, let's go to bed. Early day tomorrow. We go see Caine first thing. Come on, you too, useless," he added to the wolf.

Snow was no feather-weight but he still stood up while holding her in his arms, the effort causing him to grunt as he rose, gallant but not entirely graceful. She held still, trusting him to find their balance. Once on their way to their room, however, she whispered in his ear, "Good thing you hadn't gotten ready for bed yet. It's tough to pull off bad-ass when you're bare-assed."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

"Coffee?" Peter offered.

Kermit stood in the doorway a second as Snow preceded him to take the proffered mug. "No tea this morning? One might get the feeling you were expecting us," he said.

Peter smiled a bit and, nodding, poured out another mug to hand to him before pouring one for himself. "It's a Shaolin thing."

Radar was on two hind legs, washing Master Khan's face for him with little objection from the big man. "Down, Radar," Snow ordered her pet as she went to sit on the raised platform that overlooked the balcony.

"I don't mind," said Master Khan, continuing to stroke the animal after she had obediently dropped to all fours again. Snow perched cross-legged on the platform as she took a sip of her coffee. "She's gotten so ill-mannered since we moved to the city. I may have to send her back to pulling sleds for a bit so she remembers she's a working dog."

"She's back to working as a guard dog for now," Kermit commented, leaning on the counter. "Although, after last night, I'm not sure she's the wolf for the job."

Peter sat down at his kitchen table, bringing a mug of coffee for Master Khan with him. "What happened last night?"

"Not much. Bright lights, scented winds, portals to another dimension opening up in my den, ancient Masters in shining robes; that sort of thing."

"I see. Another boring evening at home. Here I thought you were finally going to get a life," Peter said calmly.

"Radar didn't even curl her lip at them. They didn't happen to show up over here, did they?"

Peter shook his head. "No, but the Ancient was here."

"With an invitation to be the main event at Shambhala Square Garden?"

Peter nodded this time. "Something like that."

"Are you buying all this?"

"You aren't?"

Kermit almost laughed, knowing Peter was needling him. The Ancient must have told Caine about his part as the Dark Warrior for Light. "Well, the Ancient is one of them, now isn't he? Whose side do you suppose he's on?"

"Look, Kermit. I know you well enough to know that you never accept anything on face value. I'd bet my rice rations you even checked up on Snow via the net with your FBI buddies before you could stand up to find the john by yourself. You know what I told you about Shambhala. You know what you've found out about it on the net and through your resources. You had Bon Bon Hai appear and disappear from your office, right in front of your own skeptical eyes. I've faced this...'thing' before. It's evil. It's powerful. And if they say it's about to escape again, I believe them."

"In other words, you're going."

"I'm a priest; it's what I do."

"We could all just disappear for a while," he suggested to his friend, testing the waters. "Let the monks fight their own battle for a change."

"I've never known you to back away from a fight, Kermit."

"Then you don't know me. I'll back down from a fight I know I can't win."

"I can win this one. Besides, there's no place you can hide from these guys. You can't even keep them out of your den."

Score one for Caine, Kermit thought to himself. "It's not your fight. It's not our fight."

"That's where you're wrong, Kermit. Bon Bon Hai's involvement makes it our fight. The Dark Warrior will need power to hold Shambhala. He'll get that power by feeding off the misery Hai will create here in our world. Even if Hai is imprisoned here, he could escape. Or the Dark Warrior will find someone else to corrupt. I have to stop it at the source."

Kermit considered his friend's words. Peter was calm, speaking with confidence, like a man who knew exactly what he was doing. "Can you really beat this Dark Warrior?"

"Lo Si says I can, with some help."

"Oh, yeah, I'd trust what he has to say. However, the masters mentioned something about that too. Any idea how it works?"

Peter nodded. "I helped my father last time when he defeated the Dark Warrior. It was a way of lending him my chi, my strength. With Lo Si's help, we can use your's and Snow's along with his. That will make it four of us..."

"Five."

Peter and Kermit looked to Master Khan who, in his reticent way, managed to capture their full attention with only one word.

"Khan, you should stay here as backup..." Peter started, but the man waved his objections away.

"Miss a chance to go to Shambhala?" he grinned.

Peter smiled back and turned to Kermit again. "Five strong chi's against one Dark Warrior. We can't lose. All you have to do is make sure you get away from Bon Bon Hai before he can turn you over to the Dark Warrior."

"Yeah, well I'm working on a little insurance in that area. Care to mind the missus while I go take care of some business?"

He could see Snow beginning to boil and shot her a look that reminded her of their agreement last night. She sipped her coffee quietly instead.

"She's safe with us," Peter promised.

Putting his empty mug in the sink, Kermit said," I'll be back by lunchtime. Need to check in at work and notify the Captain I may be AWOL for a while. I'll call your boss and make your excuses, Snow. Radar, stay with mommy and try not to trip over any Shambala Masters."

He patted the wolf on the head as he went to give Snow a quick kiss. "Don't get careless," he warned her, taking her small hands in his.

"I could say the same to you," was her quiet answer.

***********************************************

"Jack, Jack, Jack, you naughty boy," came a voice, jarring him out of a deep sleep. "What would your little bride think of you if she saw you like this? Shameful."

Griffin. He'd know that voice anywhere. There was a high pitched screech in his ear next. He sat up.

Griffin was perched on his dresser with the elephant gun aimed right for the middle of his exposed chest. Jack looked down. He was naked. He glanced to the source of the shrieking. A chick, also very naked. She had the covers bunched up to her chest in a way that failed to hide much. Oh, damn, this wasn't a good way to start the day.

"Shut up, you dumb slut, " he threatened the girl, annoyed with the sound effects. "Want him to shoot you?"

She shut up, eyes wide.

"This is police harassment, Griffin. You'd damn well better have a warrant. I want to talk to my lawyer."

"Now, Jack, is that anyway to treat a guest in your home?" he admonished. "You, screamer chick! Get out!" he ordered next.

She scrambled from the bed, gathering scattered clothing. Griffin's head never moved an inch, nor did the gun barrel. The man was made of pure stone, Jack considered as he watched the girl's well curved bottom wiggle it's way around the room. Even with the gun trained on him, he was still feeling very sorry he wouldn't get booty brunch with this one. "Hold it," Griffin ordered.

The girl froze. Jack watched him use the gun to pick up a pair of discarded trousers, pulling his wallet from the pocket. Kermit took a wad of bills from the wallet and tossed them in the girl's general direction, never shifting his gaze from Jack. "Take this for your trouble. Forget everything. Close the door behind you."

The girl snatched the money and ducked through the door, snapping it shut quickly.

"Now let's have a little chat," the Detective smiled, bouncing off the dresser to scrape a small chair from a corner of the room closer towards the bed.

Lifting one foot, he set it on the seat, folding his arms to rest on his knee. The gun was very much in evidence. "We always seem to have these cozy little chats in such sleazy venues. This is so much more...private. Just remember, one Wong move and I'll paste you to the headboard and no one will be the wiser for days."

Jack slowly moved a few pillows behind his back, leaning against them with the covers still at his waist, hands where they could be easily seen. Whatever the hell Griffin was up to, he wasn't about to make any sudden moves.

"Going in for panty raids, Griffin?" he taunted.

"This is off the record, Jack. I won't mention it if you won't."

Instantly Jack's suspicions were aroused. "You don't have a warrant, do you?" he accused.

"This isn't business. Then again, it's not a pleasure either. You naked is something I never wanted to see. So, how's your boss, Jack? What's Bon Bon Hai been up to lately? Any foaming at the mouth yet? "

"I work for myself, Griffin. I'm a businessman. Solid pillar of the community. I have no involvement with Bon Bon Hai anymore."

"Any idea where the mirror is?"

Ah ha. The mirror. The detective was on a fishing expedition. Probably had no proof Hai even had the mirror. Jack decided to play dumb. "What the hell are you babbling about? Mirror? What mirror?"

"Jack, Jack, we're going to get nowhere fast if you keep up this charade. You don't even do it well. I know Hai had the mirror snatched. You probably helped. But he can't get it to work, can he? I bet that makes him real angry, doesn't it? Does he take it out on you? He'll do that when he frustrated enough. It could get...ugly."

Damn, Jack thought. Griffin knows way too much. He was going to need to take another tack on this and fast. "What do you know about it?"

Griffin smiled and it wasn't a nice smile. "I know where the keys are."

"Spell it out for me, Detective, or I call my lawyer."

Griffin reached under his ratty trench coat and pulled something from his jacket pocket. He let it dangle from his fingers; a strangely carved bit of jade on a cord. Looked like a necklace. "Bon Bon Hai wants to go back to Shambhala," Griffin started, "So far, he hasn't found a way. But he has a mirror that can be used as a portal to the mythic realm. He can't get it to work. It won't open for him because it needs a key. Or, rather, two keys. Two jade pendants that link together and fit into a recessed place on the mirror's frame; pendants that can only be used by a special keeper. The information is found in the Journal of Chow Long. You will tell him that you 'persuaded' this information from the Ancient."

"Oh, I did? And where's the Ancient now?"

Griffin shrugged. "He got away from you. Hai knows you could never hold on to that old man for long. Besides, you got the information you needed. Hai will be pleased by your initiative."

"Why will I tell Hai this? Why shouldn't I just call my lawyer and the cops and have you put in your own slammer?"

"You could do that. And be stuck as Hai's stooge for the rest of your life. Or you help us send Hai to Shambhala and he never comes back to give you another order. Never chews your head off. Never sets you up to take the fall for him. Never puts a bullet in your back. Sounds like a sweet deal to me, Wong. Take it."

"What do you get out of this?"

"Same as you. Bon Bon Hai is gone forever."

Wong deliberated. It sounded good. There had to be some holes in it somewhere, but for a chance to get rid of his borderline insane boss, with no bloodshed, nothing to link him to his disappearance, it did indeed sound pretty sweet. "Where are the keys?" he asked, not committing himself.

"You're looking at one of them."

"You have them?" he blurted out incredulously, looking at the jade piece.

This was too weird, thought Jack, wishing fervently that other people would quit trying to involve him in mystical mumbo jumbo that flat out scared him.

"I do. And funny thing, turns out my wife is the only one who can use them. It's such a small world after all, isn't it?"

"Great. Just what do you expect me to do?"

Griffin shifted forward, the green sunglasses glaring at him. "Here's the deal. You tell Hai this information. He'll no doubt have us kidnapped, either together or singly. You make sure Snow is unharmed and you make sure I have a weapon when I go through that mirror and that I'm free to act as necessary. Then you can go home and you can screw the entire day shift at the ShotGlass bar for all I care."

"And if the cops come nosing around, looking for you or Hai?"

Kermit leaned back again, pocketing the necklace. "Tell them the truth. Shock them with the novelty."

"Oh yeah, they'll believe me. They all stepped through a mirror and disappeared, officer, honest."

"Tell them Caine is involved. They'll believe it."

Jack seized a sudden idea. "Give me the pendant for proof."

Griffin laughed as he straightened up, cradling the big gun in his arms. "Not a chance. He has to take me too. Are you in, Wong? Or are you content to play Larry, Moe and Curly for the rest of your life?"

There was always room for a double cross, Jack considered before answering, "All right. I'm in. But you never tell Hai I had any part in this, just in case you fail. I'm not cutting my own throat."

"Deal. I'd shake your hand, but I've seen where it's been lately. I expect to see you soon. Don't make it look too easy. I won't."

The detective strolled out of the bedroom and Jack tossed the covers aside, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Snatching his pants, he tugged them on. Some one on guard duty was going to pay for this. Then he'd shower and eat and go find the Tiger and set the stage.

It occurred to him that he had only agreed to see that the woman would come to no harm. Nothing was said about Griffin himself. Hell, the guy had just about invited him do some damage. And, if he played it right, maybe none of them would ever come back from that Shambhala place.

"This better work, Griffin," he muttered as he headed for the door.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

"Come on, Snow. You're not focusing," Peter accused as he offered her a hand up from her prone position on the mat.

They were in the Kwoon on the first floor, practicing Snow's defensive moves. Master Khan stood on the edge of the mat, arms crossed and frowning at Snow's technique.

"Well, duh," she answered sarcastically, letting him pull her to her feet. "He could be in Bon Bon Hai's hands by now for all we know."

Peter retained his grip on to her hands for a second. "Concentrate," he ordered. "Clear your mind. Then see if you can use your gifts to connect with him."

"You know I usually can't get anything from him."

"Try."

Snow obediently took in a couple of deep cleansing breaths as she closed her eyes and dropped her emotional shields. The background din grew loud as she let in the chaos around her. Narrowing her focus, she reached for the presence she'd come to know so well and found....nothing. She opened her eyes. "Like I said. Zip. Zilch. Nada."

Peter smiled at her serenely. "Then he's fine. If he were in distress, you'd know, wouldn't you? He'd be deliberately trying to reach you to let you know."

She sighed. "I suppose you're right."

"You know I'm right. Now calm yourself and let's try some of these moves again. He needs you to be able to defend yourself when he's not around."

Snow shook herself out and took up her position again, waiting for Peter to attack. The bell on the door rang out as a blast of wintry air surged in but she didn't let it distract her. As she guessed he would, Peter took advantage of the activity to come at her again. This time she ducked his attack and slipped in a quick strike to the shin. He grinned as he hopped on one leg, rubbing the offended area. "That...was sneaky...and much better."

"Oh, Master Caine, I hope you are not too badly injured!"

Snow turned around to see who had spoken and was faced with an elderly gentleman armed with a briefcase.

The young woman with him was just about her height, but much slimmer and extremely beautiful. Dressed in a conservative suit, the girl wore her shiny dark hair in a fashionable bob, bright red lipstick delineating perfect bow shaped lips. Her porcelain pale skin flushed with pink as she gazed with concern at the handsome young priest. Though Snow stood between her and Caine, it was as if no one else in the room existed for the girl. There was no mistaking the waves of desire that Snow detected from her either.

"I'm fine, Ahn Li, but thank you for your concern," Peter assured her, "Mr. Pau, good to see you."

He shook the man's hand and then introduced the lawyer to both Snow and Master Khan. "This is Mrs. Ahn Li Wong," he added to Snow.

"Wong? Perhaps as in Jack Wong?" asked Snow curiously.

The girl gave her a distasteful look. "Temporarily. I take it you know my almost-ex husband?"

"Our paths crossed, briefly," Snow answered, being deliberately cryptic.

The tinge of jealousy that had permeated the girl's emotions ripened. It almost made Snow snicker. She clearly wanted Peter something fierce, but she equally didn't like the idea of her soon-to-be-ex-husband being chummy with Snow. She could read Ahn Li's expression even without her empathic skills as the girl looked her over. "I do not care to hear any details," Ahn Li said haughtily.

"Ahn Li!"

Peter's chastising look brought on an expression of shame to the girl but Snow could feel it's deceit. Ahn Li was only worried about how Peter felt about her, not about her manners. "Actually, your husband and mine are old adversaries. I have only met him once and that once was quite enough," Snow told her, mostly to see what kind of reaction that would bring.

Instantly the jealousy was gone. Married and no friend of Jack Wong's, Snow was no longer any threat to the girl. The sulky look was replaced with a false brightness as Ahn Li's coquettish manner returned. "Then you can understand why I am eager to be rid of him. No woman would be proud to call him husband."

She turned dreamy eyes back to Peter. No, Jack Wong wouldn't be a husband to be proud of, thought Snow as she saw herself drop from the girl's radar again. However, a handsome, decorous priest would be just the ticket. This little package was dynamite and Peter had better know what he was doing. "Which is why we are here, Master Caine," the attorney put in. "We are on our way to a meeting with Mr. Wong and his lawyers to go over the divorce agreement and we were hoping you could accompany us. I think Ahn Li would feel much safer with you along and I have no doubt that Mr. Wong will feel much less secure. He might, in fact, be more amenable to compromise in your presence."

Peter looked hesitant. "Ah, I'm afraid I can't..."

Snow could see Peter's mental process without sensing it. Loyalty to his friend's request to protect Snow would come first. But there was no doubt that Peter needed to be along on this meeting if only to set the girl straight. "I think between Master Khan and Radar, I'm safe enough here, Peter. Go ahead."

Peter glanced over to the big man who nodded silently. "Give me a couple of minutes to change and get my coat," he requested, "Perhaps you have time for some tea?"

The lawyer accepted for them and the group went upstairs to Peter's apartments. Radar glanced up from her favorite place by the balcony doors but didn't move as if sensing there was no threat. Settling the guests in his solarium, Peter went off to change while Wah Chen passed around his eternally boiling tea pot for refreshments. Snow excused herself and went quickly to Peter's room, entering after a quick tap on his door.

He had his shirt off and was working on the ties on the loose practice suit pants when he looked up at Snow's abrupt entrance. "Hey, married lady, your husband may not mind me leaving you in Master Khan's care, but he's certainly going to protest me doing a strip tease for you."

"Kermit knows I was raised to regard the unclothed human body as something natural, Peter. And frankly, no insult intended, but your bare, hairless chest and tush don't do a thing for my prurient interests. They do, however, appear to hold a great deal of interest to a certain young lady. Are you aware of this?"

Peter sat down on a small hassock and pulled off the soft boots he'd been wearing to protect himself from the winter chill that permeated the brownstone these days. "I've been getting a few clues. I take it you felt something definite?"

"To quote a phrase: Oh, yeah."

Peter dropped the boot he'd been holding. "I was afraid of that. How serious would you say she is?"

"Well, you're her knight in shining armor, rescuing her from the dragon. I'd say serious. I bet she's got a pretty fantasy all built up."

"Damn."

"I know this is none of my business, Peter, but I just thought you needed to know what I was getting. I didn't seek the information; she broadcasts on all levels."

"I appreciate your confirming what I was sensing too, Snow. Guys are sometimes clueless, but I noticed the looks she was giving you. She was treating Jody the same way. Like a rival. I'm not sure what I'm going to say to her, but I will talk to her. Thanks, Snow."

"Anytime, Master Caine," Snow teased him, bowing low as if she were still his student.

He tossed his other boot in her direction, saying, "Now you'd better get out of here before I spoil your lunch with a view of my hairless tush."

"Gah! I'm going! I'm going!"

****************************************

Only Jack Wong could bring a date to his divorce proceedings, thought Peter as he watched the handsome young man stroll down the street in the late afternoon sun with the lushly curved babe clinging to him like a wet paper towel. "That was me not so long ago. I almost feel sorry for her," came a comment from behind him.

Ahn Li.

He needed to find an opening to talk with her about their relationship. Or their lack of one, anyway. She provided it. With a silky smile she asked, "Perhaps you would consent to take a fallen woman out for a drink? To celebrate?"

He took her hand and smiled at her, calling up just enough charm to get her full attention. "It's not really anything to celebrate, is it?"

"No, I guess not."

"Go home, Ahn Li. Go home and start over. You're not a fallen woman, just one who was duped and deceived. There's no shame in that."

"There is according to my culture," she said sadly.

He had the feeling she was trying to play on his sympathy. "Our culture, Ahn Li," he reminded her, "But this is not China and here we can make of our culture what we will. Cherish the traditions, but don't be restrained by them. You have half of your father's estate. That's a lot of money. You've had a chance to see how a business runs at Mr. Fong's bakery. You could open a business too, be as involved in it as you wish. Or just invest your money. Perhaps some more education. There's a whole big, beautiful life out there, just waiting for you. This time, it's your choice, not your father's."

She'd been gazing at him as if she were only half listening. "But I'm alone and I'm frightened," she insisted, though his Shaolin senses could detect the lie.

"You have family and friends, Ahn Li. I'm your friend too as well as your priest. Feel free to call on me if you have need, but I think you have more strength than you realize. You just need to give yourself a chance."

He did the worst thing he could think of. He patted her on the head and chucked her under her chin as if she were a child. The fact that she was, didn't matter. As long as she understood he regarded her as one. He saw the hope dying in her eyes.

She took the direct approach. "It's because I'm too young, isn't it?" she asked, tears welling in her dark eyes.

It was time to be equally direct. "That and other reasons, Ahn Li. You are a lovely young lady with many fine qualities, but there needs to be something more."

"I can be anything you need, anything you want," she sobbed, those dark moist eyes, now wide and pleading.

"You deserve someone who loves you, Ahn Li," he told her gently, finally disentangling his fingers from her grasping hands to take a ready handkerchief from his pocket.

She took the offered cloth and dried her eyes quickly. He could see that pride was taking over now as she composed herself. Handing him back his handkerchief, she pulled her jade wedding ring from it's place on her left hand and moved it to the right. "Don't you want to get rid of that?" he asked.

She shook her head no. "Once the paperwork is finalized, I will no longer be married but I am no longer some virginal maiden. I'm a divorced woman and I will not forget it. This will be a reminder."

He nodded. She was growing up very fast. "Call some of your friends. Or go to see your mother tonight," he suggested. "A reminder that you aren't alone would be good too."

She gave him a small bow and then turned to walk away in the same direction as Jack had taken, further into the depths of Chinatown. Peter sighed. That hadn't been as bad as it could have been but it still left him unsettled. His tingling Shaolin senses told him that he hadn't seen the last of Ahn Li.

******************************************

"If you don't spit it out love, you're never going to get to sleep and neither will I," Snow told Kermit softly in the Stygian dark of their bedroom.

She could usually sleep anywhere, under any conditions, but her cautious husband insisted on pitch-black darkness to sleep, the better to foil any foolish intruders while he was vulnerable. The mattress buckled beneath her as he moved to roll on his side, tossing an arm around her waist to pull her closer. She guessed rather than saw that he had propped his head up with the other hand. "You eavesdropping on my thoughts again, babe?"

Snow denied it immediately, "You know I'm not a mind reader. I only pick up emotions. Besides, I don't need my gift to know when something's bothering you. So tell me what you want me to know."

"I set a few things up today. Made a deal with the devil."

"Thought he wasn't talking to you anymore."

"His stooge is. I made arrangements for Jack Wong to be the one to pick us up. He's going to make sure you're treated gently so when he comes for you, go with him quietly, okay?"

"So I let Caine dump me on my fanny twenty times today for no reason?"

"Just because I want you to give in this time doesn't mean you can get sloppy. You might still need to defend yourself before this is over."

"What about you?"

"Part of the deal; don't worry about me. I made it clear they'll need me too."

"Okay, but this isn't what has you concerned, it is?"

He hesitated and she could feel the waves of reluctance that emanated from him for a few seconds. "I need you to do something else for me. I don't want to ask this but I can't see any other way. You're going to have to use your gifts to insure that Wong doesn't double-cross us."

The shock of his request made her gasp. He'd been outraged when he thought she'd used her gifts on him. It had almost caused a permanent rift in their relationship. Now he was asking her to misuse them deliberately. She pulled away from his sheltering arm as she snapped on her reading light, blinding them both for a few seconds. Sitting up, she blinked her eyes into adjustment, taking the time to gather herself. On the floor, Radar lifted her head as if to ask what was going on.

He hadn't moved, hadn't reached for his sunglasses, his naked gaze making the request all the more serious.

"I can't do that. Not again."

"Don't fight me on this, babe. I wouldn't ask if I didn't think it was necessary."

"You don't know what it was like. I was scared. I was running on instinct, pure survival tactics. It was horrible. Hideous. They have minds like...sewers and it felt so wrong. They are slime but they are people, Kermit. People shouldn't be used that way. And I never want to feel that way again."

He reached to pull her against his chest, burying his face in her hair and she let him but still held herself apart from him. "We both made promises, I mean to keep mine, to keep you. Help me do that! I can't order you to do this. You're not some mercenary raider under my command. Not that I remember ever asking one of them to come on to the enemy. We both knew this wasn't going to be easy, but you know better than I that it has to be done. You must trust me. This is the best way I can think of to ensure your safety. You don't have to turn it up full blast; just make them like you again."

"So it's okay for me to do the wrong thing just because you want me to? Isn't that a little hypocritical?"

"In this case, it's not doing the wrong thing. It's doing what's necessary. You know life isn't black and white, Snow. It's shades of gray and this is a very gray area."

"Not to me."

She could feel the frustration and fear rising from him. "Snow, I can't keep you safe without your cooperation. I can't stop any of this and I can't control any of this. I can't do any of my usual reconnaissance or research on this place. I'm working blind here and I'm scared to death. I don't want to lose you and I'm not ready to cash in both our chips, even if the fate of the civilized world does hang in the balance. Being told I'm some kind of Dark Warrior for the Light doesn't change who I am, what I care about. I have no fealty to a mythic realm called Shambhala. I care about you. I care about us."

His words were so earnest, his feelings so powerfully evident, she couldn't hold herself from him any longer. "All right," she agreed quietly, "I hate this, but I will do what is necessary."

Letting herself melt into his arms, she gave a small shiver, remembering what she had done, what she was going to have to do again. He reached to shut off her light and tenderly tucked the covers about her when the darkness closed in on them again.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

"It's my turn!"

Jack Wong shook off the restraining hand than held his and straightened up, wiping the sweat from his eyes. There was a single light burning in the old warehouse, making the dusty, musty smelling place even more foreboding with shadows that flickered like ghosts every time the dangling light bulb was moved by shifting air currents. Glaring at the kid who dared lay hands on him, he jerked the boy closer by a handful of shirt front and snarled, "This isn't some game, you moron. This is a job and the boss wants it done right, so back off."

He shoved the kid away and turned back to where Griffin was still grinning at him. Leaning over as far as the duct tape would permit, the cop spat some blood on the floor and goaded him, "You're an amateur, Wong. Whatever the hell it is that you want to know, I'm still not telling you. If this is as much enthusiasm as you can work up, it's no wonder your old lady left you."

Jack let out an enraged snarl and hit him again; satisfied with the way the man's head snapped back. Duct-taping Griffin to the chair had been a stroke of genius, his own clever innovation. It restrained without leaving the tell-tale damage of ropes or handcuffs and there was less chance of escape. The blow was carefully placed to do minimal damage. He could have broken the cop's nose by now. This was just his way of sticking to their deal without diminishing his own pleasure. "I don't want to know a thing, Griffin. I'm only warming you up for the boss. I'm sure you'll find his methods of questioning more effective, but no where near as much fun as this is."

Kermit spat out another mouthful of blood, this time on his assailant's shirt. "Oh, yeah, I'm having a ball, too. You do know how to show a guy a good time, Jack. Too bad you aren't as good at entertaining the ladies."

Even knowing that Griffin was pushing his buttons deliberately, Jack still felt the rage building within. He wiped the blood off his shirt with Griffin's tie, then aimed two sharp blows that left his victim unconscious. Or at least he looked like he was. Wong grabbed a handful of hair and jerked Kermit's head back to check his eyes. Out like a light. Dropping the detective's head again, he rummaged in his pockets for a minute, coming out with a well worn wallet. Peeling out a couple of bills, he tossed them at one of his cohorts. "Go get me a drink, a sandwich and a new shirt. This could be a long night," he ordered.

Then he went back to rifling the man's pockets as the young tough walked off. The jade piece he'd been looking for was there along with several other items, including the case that held Kermit's badge and identity card. He tossed them on the table, next to Griffin's gun and trademark sunglasses, then went to unhook the cuffs from the back of his belt. "He's a cop!" exclaimed one of the young men who had been standing back, watching the proceedings with great interest.

"So?" asked Jack, dropping the cuffs on the table.

"So, I was hired to steal a mirror, not kill a cop," the youngster declared. "You ice a cop around here and they're on your tail forever. I do not want to be part of this."

Jack walked over and put an arm over the kid's shoulders. "Too late. He's seen your face, but don't worry. They have to have a body for there to be a killing and trust me, there won't be any body."

The kid looked distrustfully at Jack so he decided the truth would be more fun than a lie. "See that mirror over there?"

The kid looked back at the beautiful artifact. "Yeah, I helped steal it, remember?"

"Well, pretty soon, the boss is going to take that cop and the cop's old lady and himself and step right through that mirror and, poof! Disappear. Chances are real good none of them will being coming back. No bodies. When that happens, someone has to take over for the boss. Guess who that's gonna be, punk?"

The kid was silent, looking from Jack to the mirror as if trying to decide what to believe, what to do. Jack just laughed, slapped the kid not too gently on his cheek and shoved him away. Then he sauntered over to take a bucket from beneath the table and checked the temperature of the water in it with his fingertips. Ice cold.

He dumped half the contents on the unconscious cop, bringing him around again. Griffin shook his head, flinging drops of water in a semi-circle around him, grunting a bit from the unwise move.

"Aw, detective, you've wet yourself," Jack taunted as he bent over the restrained man, face to face with him.

"You musta scared it out of me," Kermit drawled in a bored tone.

"Still smart-mouth. Maybe I ought to kick in a few of your teeth. Would that shut you up?"

"Thought you wanted me to be able to talk to your boss?"

Jack laughed and turned away, pulling a chair out from the table. "You'll talk plenty when he wants you to."

Sitting down, he put his feet up and pulled a deck of cards from his pocket to toss on the table. Then he went back to Griffin's wallet and pulled the bills from it, saying "Now, who's interested in a few hands of poker?"

"Deal me in," Griffin called out. "It's my money, I should get a chance to win it back."

"Rumor has it that's your old lady's dough, cop. I hear she's loaded. Sounds like I'm not the only one who decided to trade up."

"Mercenaries make good money, Wong. I could buy and sell you on my own. However, your money did come from your wife when she bought her freedom from you. Not a very flattering review of your performance."

Wong laughed. "What do you think your old lady will do after this, Griffin, after you turn her over to Bon Bon Hai? She gonna thank you? Oh, wait, you'll both be dead. No problem. Where do you want me to send the flowers?"

"How about right up your...."

Whatever was said next was lost in the reverberating grind of the docking bay doors opening. As a long white limo pulled into the bay, Jack leapt up to get the door for his boss.

The Tiger rose gracefully from his vehicle and stalked slowly, menacingly towards the bound detective, his focus so intent he didn't acknowledge the presence of even his henchman, much less that of the young toughs who backed deeper into the shadows as if cowed by his presence. Jack glanced into the limo and was startled by it's occupants. What the hell was the boss up to? Must be some kind of surprise for Griffin, he decided. Since the boss left no contrary orders, he merely closed the door of the big car and followed to where Bon Bon Hai stood, locked in a silent stare-down with the cop.

Still silent, Hai turned to look at the objects on the table and with a satisfied smirk, picked up the white jade pendant.

"It won't work for you, Hai."

Bon Bon Hai ignored the cop's comment and continued to examine the piece minutely, then ripped off the cord on which it was threaded. Going to the mirror, he set it in place and stood back as if admiring it.

"Where is the other half?" he asked mildly.

"I think you know."

"Humor me."

"Safe around my wife's neck."

"And where is your wife, Detective Griffin?"

"Gee, this time of night? Could be anywhere. Delancy's maybe. The theater. She's so hard to keep track of sometimes."

"She is not at home and she is not at Caine's. Neither is the young priest. Do you really think hiding her will keep her safe from me?"

Griffin smiled, "That was my intention."

"And if I have parts of you delivered one bloody piece at a time to the 101st, do you think she'll come out of hiding?" the Tiger hissed, stepping back to face his adversary.

"I told her not to and she minds me. Unlike some people's wives. Or ex-wives."

The barbed comment wasn't lost on Wong who wished he had broken the mouthy bastard's nose.

"Then you will have to tell me where to find her."

"That's doubtful."

Bon Bon Hai smiled and Jack, feeling the chill down his spine, was grateful that for once, that smile was not aimed at him.

"Oh, I think you will be willing to tell me everything I wish to know," Hai threatened through a clench-jawed smile.

Snapping his fingers at Jack, Hai indicated the limo with a gesture and Jack went to fetch the occupants. With a mannerly hand on the woman's elbow, he helped out the middle-aged, matronly-looking woman who held a whimpering baby in her arms. Griffin stiffened ever so slightly. Wong had no idea who these people were but apparently Griffin did.

Bon Bon Hai gently caressed the child who wailed all the louder, pulling away from him to clutch the woman tighter. "Do you know this child, detective?" asked Hai.

"I have a good idea who she is," Griffin admitted gruffly.

"Then perhaps you are willing to trade the child's safety for the location of your wife?"

Griffin glared at Hai. "You're a dead man, Hai. I won't settle for legal retribution. By the time this is over, you'll suffer my justice."

Hai pulled the child from the woman's arms in a swift move and ordered, "Kill the nanny."

The woman gasped as Jack seized her, pulling his gun from the holster under his arm. "All right!" Griffin shouted, "That's enough."

He rattled out an address, his naked eyes burning with hate as he glared at Jack's boss, who gently cuddled the child. Then, thrusting the child back into the woman's arms, Bon Bon Hai shoved both back towards the limo. Jack thought quickly and blurted out, "It could be a trap. He gave in too easily. Let me go get her, boss."

Hai froze, turning to Griffin to glare at him with narrowed eyes as if searching the man for the truth. "Go," he commanded Jack.

Flashing a triumphant smirk at Griffin, he guided the woman and her burden back into the limo. Before joining her, he went back to Griffin and, rather ungently, pulled the blood-stained tie from around his neck. "Just in case she needs a bit more persuasion," he commented to Hai as he walked past his boss and was rewarded with a approving nod.

As they pulled away, Jack saw one of the gang of young toughs bringing a chair for Hai to sit in front of Griffin. Too bad he was going to miss that exchange, but this mission would be ultimately more satisfying.

************************************

"Are you getting anything?"

Karen Simms was obviously trying to keep her voice calm but the fear crept in like frost gathering on a window. Snow had to consciously blot out the woman's blaring emotions as she searched for a familiar essence. It was useless in the emotional clamor that echoed about the house. Shaking her head negatively, she stood up from her meditative pose on Simms' living room carpet. "I'm sorry. I rarely get anything from Kermit and I don't know either your daughter or her nanny well enough to search for them. I can only tell you that the....path continues as it should. I know that doesn't make much sense, but it means I don't sense anything wrong and surely any real danger to your child I would feel as a wrongness."

Detective Skalany had a comforting arm about the scared mother who nodded, saying, "Thank you for trying. I'm sure we would have heard something by now..."

They all looked to Blake who sat by the phone, recorder attached and various other items of electronic equipment piled around him. "If they call, we'll have a location in 6 seconds, I promise."

"What about that bug you put on Kermit?" Skalany asked.

"Same location. Hasn't moved. Tail still on Hai's limo. It's still coming cross-town," Blake answered, checking the equipment.

TJ looked over from his post at the front window. "Maybe we should go in?"

"No!"

Snow hadn't intended it to be so loud, but her own nerves were frayed. "Please, Captain, you must trust him. I know he didn't plan for all this but it's still heading in the right direction," she begged.

Simms nodded. "All right. We wait a bit longer."

Skalany guided her boss to a chair and announced brightly, "How about I go make us all some tea?"

"That would be very nice, Mary Margaret," Snow agreed.

Simms nodded and Skalany went to the kitchen. Snow sat down in a chair facing the Captain. "I'm sorry this happened. If he had any idea Hai would go this far, he would have planned differently, I'm sure."

"I know. I wouldn't have believed Hai would be so bold. He must be very sure of himself."

Simms hands were twisted tightly together, evidence of her distress. Snow took a positive position, hoping at least to distract, if not comfort the agitated woman. "He can not win. Peter will defeat the Dark Warrior."

"Can you be certain of that? I understand that last time..."

"Peter is at the peak of his strength," Snow assured her, "and we will lend him the strength of 4 others. He is also a full Shaolin priest now. That will make a great deal of difference."

Simms just nodded thoughtfully as she leaned back in her chair. "Captain," Blake called out, "The limo appears to be headed in this direction. They think it may be coming here."

"Any idea who's in it?" Blake shook his head. "Chin said it went into the warehouse through some kind of docking bay doors. They never saw who got in it from the beginning."

"Tell Chin I said thank you and to keep watching for any other movement. He's to wait for my orders before going in."

As Blake turned back to his radio and spoke quietly into it, Snow felt a familiar essence tingling at the edge of her perception. She focused in on it, surprised when she finally recognized the source. "Jack Wong."

Simms sat up and TJ turned to stare at her. "What?" asked Simms.

"Jack Wong is in the limo. Kermit said he'd make sure Jack would be the one to come for me."

It took all their patience to wait for the limo to park in Simms driveway. Snow had to admire the Captain's strength when TJ opened the door to Wong, who stood with the nanny behind him. "Straight exchange, Captain. Send her out," he ordered flatly.

"Give me a reason I shouldn't just shoot you where you stand, Wong," she snarled at him.

"Oh, let me," Blake begged, gun in hand.

Silently holding up a blood stained tie, Wong smiled.

"I'm coming," Snow spoke up.

She reached to take the tie from the handsome young hood and passed it back to Simms. "Could you take care of this for me?" she asked, putting shades of meaning into the look she gave the woman who had been forced by circumstances to give up something Snow had come to treasure more than life itself.

"I'll hold on to it for you," Simms assured her quietly, "until you come back."

Snow nodded, feeling that perhaps some peace had been made. It would make it that much easier to concentrate on the task before her now. Swallowing her distaste, she smiled at Jack, putting as much charm into the smile as she could bear. "Shall we go?"

She could see in his answering smile that she'd reached far enough into his mind to make herself appealing to him once again. "With pleasure," he said.

Taking her by the arm, he lead her to the limousine. She looked back at the happy reunion between mother and child, content that at least one thing had gone right so far and wished fervently for the path to continue to head straight into the light.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

"I have touch'd the highest point of all my greatness, And from that full meridian of my glory I haste now to my setting. William Shakespeare," Bon Bon Hai intoned, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smirk.

Kermit thought for a minute before answering, shifting slightly in the chair to ease the discomfort of being restrained practically immobile for so long. "Repay kindness with kindness, and enmity with justice. Confucius."

Hai chuckled in a low rumble. "Were you not in such an impotent position, Detective, I would think that a threat. 'That they should take, who have the power, And they should keep who can.' William Wordsworth."

"O' it is excellent to have a giant's strength, but it is tyrannous to use it like a giant. Which brings us back to Shakespeare. Care for another round?" Kermit shot back at him immediately.

"Never miss a good chance to shut up. Will Rogers," was Hai's rejoinder.

"Now that sounds more like a threat," he commented. "Rogers? Wasn't he the guy who said he never met a man he didn't like? Then again, he never met you, did he, Hai?"

Hai's expression remained implacable and Kermit knew he wasn't getting to the man the way he'd intended. So much for trying to provoke intense emotions in the despot in an effort to goad him into foolish choices. The man might be insane, but he certainly wasn't stupid.

Their battle of the quotes was ended by the grinding upward progress of the docking bay door as it opened, announcing the return of the white limo. Wong sprang jauntily from the back door and, with an idiot grin plastered to his face, whirled to proffer a hand inside. Snow glided gracefully from the vehicle and was led by the handsome young man over to where the two adversaries sat face to face. She appeared composed, but Kermit knew by her erect, subtly tense posture she was far from calm. "Dinner's cold. You might have mentioned it was boys' night out," she chastised him lightly, and he could judge how bad he must look by the small wrinkle between her brows that appeared whenever she was worried.

He smiled to reassure her, matching her light tone, "Boys will be boys, you know. Just stopped off for a lite beer and a light beating, sweetheart, although I still haven't gotten my beer yet."

"Shockingly lax with their guest manners. I can't say much for the ambiance either. Martha Stewart must be terribly disappointed."

Hai stood up, and growled menacingly, "Enough! As you can see, your spouse is in satisfactory condition; a condition dependent on my good will and your cooperation...as is your own."

"But of course you'll have my full cooperation and I appreciate the....obvious care you lavish on your guests," Snow told him, stepping just a bit closer to stare into the man's eyes.

Hai's scowl faded and a gentle smile lit his face as he reached to take her hand, bowing over it. "Some guests deserve far more special treatment than others."

There was no doubt in Kermit's mind that Snow had successfully cast her web of glamour over the man, just as he had asked her to, but he hadn't fully realized how much he would dislike watching it.

"Let me show you my latest acquisition," Hai purred to her, "while Mr. Wong prepares the Detective for our journey. I'm sure you'll find it of great interest. It's a lovely antique mirror...but, perhaps, you will find it familiar?"

Hai led her towards the mirror which stood back against a wall, barely reflecting the dim light as if it were reluctant to participate in the events it witnessed. Jack flicked open a small stiletto and began to slash through the tapes. The sudden release sent a whiplash of pain snapping through tortured muscles, making Kermit grimace in reaction. "Stand up and don't make any sudden moves or he'll be on to us," Jack whispered. "I'm going to make it look like I'm taping your hands behind your back."

He felt the cold comfort of the Desert Eagle being thrust into his hands and then Wong ripped off some long strips of tape from a roll he had grabbed from the table. He slipped the weapon into the waistband of his slacks, under his jacket, feeling properly dressed at last. Kermit let Jack put the tape on his arms, but he could tell it no longer restrained him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Snow placing her hands on the mirror. She had slipped the matching jade piece into place at the top of the frame and was running her hands along the surface of the mirror.

"My sunglasses," he growled softly to Wong and waited while Jack brought them, permitting him to slide them in place in order to keep their ruse a secret.

He glared at the young man for a second. "You'd better hope I don't come back from Oz, Jack, or there's going to be an unfortunate meeting between your face and the nearest brick wall."

Wong grinned at him and shrugged. "Had to make it look good."

A blast of tropical air made the lightbulb dance as the familiar scent of ozone and sandalwood filled the room. Kermit looked over to the mirror just in time to see Hai pressing eagerly into the light. Snow dislodged the jade pieces from their notch as he dragged her by one arm behind him. She gave Kermit one last look and he saw in her eyes a plea for forgiveness as she disappeared into the portal. Cursing, he ran towards the artifact, but as he drew near, the light died and the surface of the mirror became solid and reflective once again. In frustration, he placed both hands on the surface as if trying to push through it by force of will alone but it failed to respond to him. She'd left him behind and there was no doubt in his mind that she'd done it deliberately.

************************************

The stone halls they traversed were dim and dank, smelling of mold and mildew, chilled by an errant breeze that sprung up occasionally from various directions as if the wind itself was confused by the odd maze of passages. It appeared to Snow that Bon Bon Hai felt no such confusion as he dragged her along with him, choosing right or left down halls, or up or down stairways with confidence, drawn unerringly to wherever the Dark Warrior was calling him.

She could feel the evil summons herself. It was growing in power with every step they took. Somehow, she had to get away, but Hai's vise-like grip on her upper arm never wavered and every time she hesitated or slowed, he pulled viciously without even looking at her. Her power to beguile him was apparently no longer working in this foul place. He'd slapped her soundly for not holding the portal open long enough for Jack to thrust Kermit through, but she'd insisted that the place had rejected her spouse and Hai had seemed convinced enough to stop hitting her.

They arrived at the end of a shadowy passage before a sturdy-looking wood door, banded with iron and padlocked; a lock so obviously intended to keep something in. The passageway was dark, yet the very wood seemed to glow with a loathsome flicker. Water dripped around them, running in rivulets along the edges of the hall, and, in some spots, over the door, making the iron rusty and crusted with patches of a dark, deadly-looking mold. He stood, contemplating it for a second before shoving her toward it. "Open it," he hissed.

Perhaps it was a guess on her part, but more likely it was the Shambhala breeding that made her pull the jade pieces from her pocket and set them on the lock. Squeaking, the padlock slowly parted and fell from the door. Snow repocketed the talisman as the door swung inward, revealing a small room where an immense vase rested on a low-set pedestal against the wall opposite them. It glowed with a sickly green light as the room hummed with the pulsating vibrations of power.

"I am here, my Master," announced Hai with glee as he grabbed Snow, propelling her with him into the room.

She struggled against him, less with fear than with revulsion for the feelings the dreadful power created in her. He held her against him for a second, then, with one hand at her throat, he shook her like a cat with a mouse before he backhanded her to the ground. "Do not move," he ordered her and she cringed from his upraised hand, pretending fear and obedience.

He moved to kneel before the vase and bowed his forehead until it touched the floor. "I am here to do your bidding, Master. Tell me how to obtain your release."

The voice was like a whisper on the wind, less sound that thought, but still audible to both of them. "Put both of your hands on the vase," it commanded.

Snow couldn't see Hai's face, but she could tell he was hesitating. The Dark Warrior's essence flooded the room with rage at the disobedience and Hai cowered back from it. "Do you not wish to suck the life-force from this one?" he asked, gesturing back towards Snow.

"She is tainted with Shambhala. I cannot take her essence while in this form. First, I must take a corporeal body on this plane. I will use yours."

Hai's face was turned towards hers, betraying his obvious disapproval of his Master's plan. Snow couldn't help the smirk she turned on him. It seemed to spur him to a decision as he turned, grabbing onto the vase with both hands. Immediately, he threw back his head and screamed as a wave of light surged through his body.

Snow scrambled to her feet and ran, slamming the door behind her. Picking up the lock she held it back into place, relieved when it clicked neatly back together. Somehow, she knew it was only a delaying tactic. Without the bonds of the vase holding his pure energy form, this door would not hold the physical body of the Dark Warrior for long. But, hopefully, it would be long enough for her to find the Great Hall and the Shambhala Masters. She turned back retracing the way she had come and ran, trusting instinct to guide her.

*****************************

Kermit angry wasn't a pretty picture. His curses were a vividly descriptive promise of a future Jack Wong fervently hoped wouldn't come to pass. The detective was pacing like an enraged panther in front of the mirror, stopping now and then to reach out and touch the artifact as if he couldn't believe it was still solid.

He'd actually pulled his gun on it and Jack shouted out, "Good idea!" stopping him instantly.

The glare it earned him caused his stomach to flip over a couple of times. He was grateful that Hai had dismissed the flunkies so they weren't around to witness him backing down from the madman as he turned and leveled his gun at him instead. "Maybe I should just put you out of my misery," Griffin snarled.

Jack took a chance, cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. "Go ahead if you think your old lady won't mind. She knows you're an executioner, right? It's a turn-on to some chicks, but she doesn't strike me as that kind."

The gun didn't waver, but Jack could see the tension in the man's knuckles melt away. He breathed easier for a second. Perhaps two seconds. Then he noticed the mirror behind Griffin was growing opaque and light began to blaze from it, and he forgot to breathe again.

Kermit whirled around to face the light and wind that blasted from the mirror. Out of the glare stepped none other than Peter Caine.

"Missed your ride?"

Griffin tucked the gun back in place as he strode towards the Shaolin. "Guess she thought my ticket was a little too well punched."

Peter reached a hand out to his friend's face where livid bruises had formed, including one particularly nasty one on Kermit's temple from Jack's send off to La-la Land. The priest's accusing glare made Jack cringe inwardly, but he held his ground. "Just doing my job," he explained, lamely. "I had to make it look good."

Peter laid one hand on Griffin's face, making him jerk his head away. It looked like it wasn't a very comfortable experience, much to Jack's pleasure. "Hold still," Caine requested gently. "This is my job."

The man held still as Caine laid one hand over the bruise while his other hand stretched out in Jack's general direction. There was almost an eerie glow to the priest's hands as he muttered something Jack couldn't quite make out. Then, as Caine put his hands down, Jack realized his head was aching and there was now a sharp pain along one temple. He rubbed it for a second, then winced from the additional pain the gesture created. Looking up at Griffin and Caine, he realized they were staring at him, a grin on the Detective's face but only sadness in the priest's expression. "You reap the harvest you've sown, Wong," Caine said.

Griffin's bruises were gone and Jack took in a sharp breath. Magic. Mysticism. He hated it. "Don't you two have someplace to be?" he reminded them testily.

The two turned with out comment and stepped into the blazing light of the mirror. With a snap like a whipcrack, the mirror swallowed the pair, belching out a breath of fresh, warm air like a summer breeze filled with flowers and sweetness. Then the mirror was just a mirror once more and the room was dim and dingy again with fluttering shadows that danced in unison with the gently swinging light bulb.

Jack sucked in enough courage to approach the mirror and contemplated the bruises that dappled his face. He was certainly glad he hadn't broken the detective's nose after all.

**********************************

She was lost and she damn well knew it. So much for instinct to guide her. Every passage seemed the same. She tried to choose only left hand turns and only stairs that went up but still she wandered without any clue as to where to turn next or to the whereabouts of her goal. Almost out of breath, she finally stopped jogging and leaned on one fairly clean patch of wall, taking deep breaths as she calmed herself.

The Masters had said they would know when the Dark Warrior was once again among them. She could feel it herself, so, surely, they too must feel it. They must know she needed their help. What had they said? A guide would be provided. All she had to do was ask for help. But ask who? Or what? She hadn't seen a soul. As Kermit would probably say, never a dratted pay phone around when you needed one.

Pressing her back against the wall, she slid down to a sitting position, pulling herself together as she concentrated on 'asking' for help. Remembering, she reached into her pocket and took out the jade pieces. The Masters had told her to use the jade to summon them. She closed her eyes, the better to concentrate on blocking out the evil essence that surrounded her and bowed her head over the jade griffins clasped in both her hands. A guide. She needed a guide to find her way out.

Then a rough, wet tongue rasped against her cheek and she was embraced by the musky odor and coarse fur of the white wolf who somehow seemed to be a part of this strange place. "Radar!" she exclaimed, opening her eyes and finding the wolf's amber eyes inches from her own.

She threw her hands about the animal's neck and hugged her fiercely. Then, taking the wolf's head in her hands she let the animal nuzzle her with a wet nose as she asked, "So you're my guide? I should have known they'd send a lead dog even in Shambhala."

Rising, she gestured and ordered, "Okay, you're the lead dog on this team. So lead me outta here!"

Radar understood and turned back down the hallway to another passage. Snow followed closely, knowing that time was growing short. They jogged at the pace they used when racing and even though she was tired, she managed to keep up with her pet. The passages began to look cleaner, lighter and then, with one last turn, up a winding stairway, they came into a great room, lined with tall columns and hung with bright banners. At one end of the room, the Shambhala Masters stood, bowing and chanting softly before a bank of terraced candles. Not far behind them was Peter Caine, dressed in a white suit that shone softly like the robes of the Masters. And, in counterpoint, dressed in his usual black but minus the blood-stained tie she had entrusted to another's keeping, was Kermit. He turned at her entrance as if he sensed her presence, since she was too far across the room for him to have heard her. His scowl told her all she needed to know about his present mood and how he regarded her recent actions. She was in big trouble.

He met her halfway across the room, ignoring the wolf's nosed greeting, to take her by her arms as he snarled, "What the hell were you thinking?"


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Peter watched as Kermit strode briskly to intercept Snow halfway across the room, seizing her upper arms in a grip that spoke of fear and anger and passion at the same time. It was like watching the TV with the sound way down; no discernible words, but the tone said it all. It was understandable, but inappropriate for the place and detrimental to the task that lay ahead. The waves of discord that eddied from the couple would not go unnoticed by the sensitive Shambhala residents. Much as Peter hated to step between man and wife, they were running out of time. He went to his friends and took each by the arm. Both ceased their discussion abruptly, surprised at his intrusion.

"Please, don't do this here," he appealed.

Guiding them gently, he walked them out a side door and into a walled courtyard. Only partially tiled below their feet at the doorway, it led onto a neatly trimmed sward, dominated by a single cherry tree in full, glorious bloom. Beds of flowers and greenery were trained like a riverbed, swirling here and there with equally pink blossoms. The sun rested low on the horizon, echoing the garden's palette of colors in the sky above them, but there was no way to tell if it was setting or rising. Ferns and ivies crept up the walls, nearly hiding the stones with their exuberance. It was cool and private and delicately scented making him wonder if it was a Shambhala spring or if was it like this always.

"Excuse us, I think we need to talk," Kermit growled, never moving his gaze from Snow.

"No."

Peter said it quietly, but firmly. Kermit shifted his gaze to stare at him. "This is personal, Caine."

Peter shook his head. He knew his friend needed some space but there was no time left and the situation had to take precedence. "I can't let it be personal, Kermit. As a friend, I'd like to give you that time but as a Shaolin priest charged with defending Shambhala, I can't give it to you because we don't have enough time. I know why you're angry and so does Snow. And, right now, so do most of the Masters. They're expert at reading emotional currents in their realm, so there are no secrets here."

He could tell from the tightening of Kermit's jaw how well that information went down. Perhaps Snow had been right to want to leave him behind, but it seemed other forces were in motion. Forces that required the former mercenary to be here, at this time and in this place. Somehow, he had to reach the controlled part of his friend, the part that was needed once again to protect and serve.

Peter continued, "You could waste precious minutes expressing your dissatisfaction and Snow will, of course, apologize. Meanwhile, you will have distracted Snow, and yourself, from your path. Joining this many chi's requires great delicacy, and above all, harmony. I remind you, we have not done this before. I would venture to guess that disharmony between you and Snow will affect that union."

Kermit was looking angrier by the second but Peter continued before his friend could interrupt. "Snow, in ten words or less, explain?"

"I was afraid."

"Three words; even better. You thought he was too injured to survive what might come?"

"Yes, but I can see now I was wrong. I'm sorry."

She said the last directly to Kermit, softly.

Peter wanted so much to give them the time they needed, but he continued, "And you, Kermit, ten words aren't going to be enough for you, are they?"

"Doubtful."

"Try? Reader's Digest Condensed version, please."

"More than anything? Because she made me promise never to leave her behind, but then she did it to me."

"Twenty. Not bad, but Snow still wins on points."

Peter knew the risks involved in what he said next. "Now the big one. Did you ever intend to honor that promise you made to Snow yourself, Kermit?"

It was Snow who spoke up. "No, he didn't."

She had been standing quite still and apart from Kermit, but as she spoke, she took a step closer to him, reaching to take his hand. He let her, looking down at her sturdy fingers, obviously unable to deny her accusation. "Did you really think you could hide such a strong emotion from me?" she demanded.

"Maybe I thought I could really do it if the time ever came," he countered.

She shook her head. "We can't live like this, you willing to trade your life for mine. Wondering if your past will catch up to you and I'll be the one paying for it. It doesn't matter. It's obvious we've both been living on borrowed time; you with your past, me with this Shambhala destiny. However long we have to be together is a bonus; a gift. And I'm not going to live my life wondering about when or how it's going to end. It's not the destination, love; it's the journey."

Peter could feel the change in the ether, the softness that hovered around the two, the yin of destiny joined to the yang of choice. "You probably have about 5 minutes," he advised them as he turned his back on the couple and went back into the Great Hall.

Master Khan, dressed in his soft practice grays, waited just inside the door for him. He didn't say a word, just fell in step with Peter as he moved to the foot of the stairs that led to the highest altar. The Ancient waited there for them, dressed in a suit of charcoal gray, piped in white and embroidered heavily with cranes, tigers, grasshoppers and the knotted, rayed sun of Shambhala. At the old man's sides were two beasts, fawning and rubbing against him. One was Radar, who seemed, strangely, to be so at home in this realm. The other was black as night and Peter thought it might be a wolf, until he looked away from it and glanced back. For a second, it seemed to be some twisted, fantastical beast, but then it shifted back into the wolfish form once more.

He looked to Lo Si as if asking.

"It is one of the Temple guards," came the answer.

"I don't remember seeing one before," Peter commented, looking down at the animal who with fanged grin and lolling tongue seemed to be laughing at him.

"Perhaps you did not wish to see them." said the Master of Shambhala as he separated from the group of still chanting monks.

"Or perhaps, they did not wish me to see them," suggested Peter.

The Master shrugged. "They do as they will. We have no control over them. However, we are grateful they wish to be a part of what is to come."

Peter smiled, "Speaking of which..."

He turned to face the end of the hall, taking a stance just ahead of the three men. Certainly Snow must have felt the approach of darkness as she and Kermit quietly joined the small coterie who stood at his back.

It occurred to Peter that he should be afraid. Or perhaps at least anxious with the anticipation of battle. He'd met this foe before and been defeated. Or mostly, anyway. His father had stepped in and taken over before he had truly lost the fight. He knew how strong the Dark Warrior was. Even Kwai Chang Caine had barely been able to stop this evil. He should be frightened, daunted or at least concerned, but he felt none of that, only a great calm and a deep sense of righteousness.

The Dark Warrior came as he had before, suddenly there, with a blast of light and a fetid wind, only this time there was no featureless helmet topping the armor. Instead, he wore the face of a more familiar foe, that of Bon Bon Hai.

He might look mortal, but there was no doubt from the menace that emanated from the dark form that this was no longer the Tiger of Chinatown. This was pure evil. From the seven who stood behind him came a low rumble and Peter realized it was either Radar or her companion who was growling at the presence of their mutual enemy.

Last time, Peter had been cocky, challenging the Warrior to 'show me what you've got.' This time, he stood patiently, quietly, letting the fight come to him. "So now the whelp is a full Shaolin, but still thinks he can defeat me," hissed the Warrior.

Thinking of his father, Peter favored him with a Shaolin shrug in answer. Perhaps it would annoy the Dark Warrior as much as it could him when his father was being inscrutable. "I will destroy you, Shaolin, and make slaves of those who dare oppose me."

"They are slaves who fear to speak, For the fallen and the weak...but you will not find us weak and willing slaves to your evil," Kermit spoke up.

Peter couldn't remember exactly where he'd heard the quote before but he knew it had deep meaning for Kermit. There was no doubt his friend had reached the limits of his patience.

Kermit stepped forward, the Desert Eagle in his hand, cocked and ready, "Why don't we just go the easy route and let me take care of blowing him away right now."

Peter reached to stop his friend, " Kermit, I don't think..."

There was a loud snapping sound as the Eagle's firing action moved, but failing to deliver it's bullet to the target. The Dark Warrior laughed as Griffin examined his weapon.

"..that will work here," finished Peter lamely.

Kermit shrugged as he tucked the useless weapon away. "Then again, maybe I won't," he replied, "Suppose I could try a bucket of water next..."

"Impudent mortal!" the Warrior chided with a derisive laugh. "You do not know what you face. My powers are greater than you could possibly understand!"

The evil one raised a gloved hand and aimed a blast of power in their direction. Peter had felt it's fire before and it was pure instinct that made him lift both his hands in a blocking move that dispelled the dark force. From the surprised grunt behind him, he knew he hadn't been completely successful. For a second, his concentration wavered. Then he felt the presence of his student's chi. Snow had linked with him, had reinforced his blocking move.

Knowing no harm had befallen his friend and confident he could continue to remain centered on the task ahead, he taunted his opponent. "Have you come here to talk me to death, Warrior? Or did you wish to test yourself against the line of Caine once again?"

"Test?" the Warrior roared and Peter knew he'd been successful at tweaking the tiger's tail. "This is no test, Insignificant One. This will be slaughter. We go to the place of battle, to my domain."

Peter thought quickly. If the Warrior took him away, his backup might not be able to help him. "What's wrong with right here? Or does this holy place intimidate you? Do I smell the stench of fear clinging to you like a shroud?"

"Only you will know fear."

The Warrior's laugh echoed as the brightness engulfed them and deposited them in the white realm, the battle arena where they'd fought before. Peter was alone with his enemy. Now he felt dismay. How could he defeat this powerful enemy alone? Even if he managed to, it would be the same as before; the warrior would only be banished until he was powerful enough to rise again.

Crouching, he waited for the fight to begin.

****************************************

"Damn it! Now what do we do?" Kermit raged, rubbing his chest where the Dark Warrior's blow had landed.

Snow tried not to hover, but had to make certain he was not harmed by the dark force. There could have been more to the Warrior's weapon than just a physical effect. She had succeeded in penetrating her spouse's natural blocks to ascertain that he wasn't more damaged than she thought. The damage to him seemed minor, although it was difficult to be sure through the curtain of his anger. Thank goodness Peter had been able to deflect most of it.

"The evil one has anticipated our plans," the Ancient lamented, "He has cut us off from Peter and, even if young Caine survives, the Dark force will only rise again. We are defeated."

Snow closed her eyes and felt for the link she'd created between herself and her mentor. Like a thin thread of purest gold, it glimmered yet, tenuous but still there. "No," she corrected the old master as she opened her eyes again. "I'm still with him. I can reach him; I'm sure of it, but I'll have to find a way to strengthen this connection if I'm to put any power through it."

Snow reached absently to caress Radar who whined at her knees, but it was the temple guard who took her hand gently in it's mouth and tugged. Snow looked to the Shambhala leader who nodded. "It would appear they wish to help."

Letting the animal lead the way, Snow followed with the rest of the group succeeding her; up the stairs to the main altar and then to the wall behind it. The temple guard walked through what seemed to be a solid wall, incised with the Shambhala sun. Closing her eyes, Snow kept moving forward, stopping only when she felt the animal in front of her.

She opened her eyes to a misty room, circular with walls so vague she couldn't be sure of it's dimensions. A light mist swirled over the floor, showing tantalizing glimpses of a design on the paving below. One by one, they joined her at the edge of the arena; the Ancient, the animals, Master Khan and, surprising her, the Masters of Shambhala. As if he had trouble finding his way in, Kermit was last. "I have a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore, Toto," he commented. "Anyone have a clue as to where we are?"

The head Master shook his head slowly, "This place is unknown to me. I am uncertain, but I believe this chamber to be part of the temple guards realm."

"They need better lighting. You're looking a bit dingy," Kermit commented. "Perhaps a touch of bleach in the next wash?"

Indeed, all the Master's shining white robes had been dimmed to shades of gray, with Master Khan and the Ancient's garb only slightly darker. Snow's casual outfit had retained some of it's whiteness, but Kermit still stood out in what amounted to a riot of color compared to everyone else. The glasses still looked green, his white shirt still spattered lightly with crimson blood, and the suit, black as a temple guard. "It would seem your reputation precedes you. Even the temple guards do not dare to tamper with the garb of the Dark Warrior for the Light," the Ancient said slyly.

Under different circumstances, the look Kermit gave his tea-brewing nemesis would have made her smile, but time was short. "What next?" she asked.

As if given silent orders, the Masters fanned out, encircling the area and slipped down, effortlessly folding their limbs into lotus position as if preparing to meditate. "When in Rome..." said Kermit quietly and went to take his place in the circle, between the Ancient and Master Khan.

Strangely, the two wolves did not join the circle. Instead they went to lay within the circle itself and then stared at her as if asking her to join them in the middle. The mists were dissipating and a rayed sun symbol began to take shape on the floor.

Snow pulled the Gryphon pieces from her pocket. They glowed slightly as they had when placed in the mirror portal and they pulled as if they were magnets attracted to the middle of the arena. Gripping one part in each hand, she entered the circle of monks but did not take the center, choosing instead to sit equidistant from the animals, forming a triangle of sorts. It felt right to her, especially to feel the almost physical comfort of Kermit directly behind her.

Concentrating on her link with Peter, she closed her eyes and attempted to strengthen it, reaching through what felt like the oily burn of hot tar all over her body. The Dark Warrior's force was strong, but not enough to withstand her claim on the link she held to Peter. She could almost see them as they battled, looking like two gray shadows superimposed on swirling vapors.

Then she realized her eyes were open and she was seeing them in a mist that had gathered in the center of the arena. The shapes parried and then came together, one landing a blow on the other, then falling back. Another blow on a crouched shape she was certain was Peter who rolled sideways, disappearing into the mists.

It was as if the Dark One had created a realm within a realm; a shadow of darkness within the light. Here, in the gray world of the temple guards, she could breach that envelope. One by one, she began to gather the chis of those around her.

**********************************************

'Pop, where are you when I need you,' thought Peter desperately, as he dodged another of the Dark Warrior's blows.

As he ducked, he tried to remember what had happened last time he'd fought the warrior, striving to recall the Warrior's fighting style. It seemed His Darkness relied mostly on brute force, with little finesse, but limitless strength. At their last encounter, the Warrior had chosen a great sword as his weapon. No weapon this time, save his hands. Even Dark Warriors seemed to have egos, Peter considered. One of his earliest lessons at the temple had taught him that identifying a weakness in an opponent added strength to oneself. He clutched at the precious memory; it's warmth gave him heart as his father's words rang in his head.

Peter dropped and rolled again as he danced away from the evil one. The Dark Warrior pursued him and this time, landed a painful jolt on his left knee. The move was fiercely aggressive, like that of the Way of the Tiger. So similar to the style of one Bon Bon Hai, late of Chinatown, but now, who knew where, while the evil Master utilized his slave's body.

Peter let the pain take him down, away from his foe, giving him time to recover his balance. Offensive actions, constantly pressing his attack; that was the Tiger. But little heed to defense, thought Peter swiftly as he remembered his father's lessons. So far Peter had concentrated mostly on his own defense, hoping he could wear the Warrior down a bit. He needed a more offensive tactic, so he slipped under the Warrior's arm, then rapped in a series of explosive punches on the ribcage of the being in a spot where the armor gapped.

Surprised, the volley of blows staggered the Warrior. Yes! thought Peter triumphantly. He could see the rage suffusing his enemy's face as it realized it's host's body was not impervious to pain. Swinging wildly, the Warrior threw himself at Peter who side stepped just in time to avoid contact.

A mortal human body was weak and this mortal body reacted much as it's usual owner would. It reacted to both pain and emotions and the Dark Warrior apparently had little experience with either. Perhaps a little pricking of those emotions would impede this juggernaut, Peter considered.

"So how old are you anyway?" he asked, "What, a couple million years, give or take an eon? Slowing down in your old age some?"

More rage and this time with a growl, he attacked with lightening moves, one of which staggered Peter, bringing starry flashes to his eyes. "Ha!" laughed his adversary. "Not so slow as you, Shaolin."

As he bragged, he stopped pressing forward and brought up one large fist, as if he thought Peter were too dazed to move. Peter wasn't, but he held as if he were, ducking back when the blow came, neatly avoiding it. "Close," he jeered, "but close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades."

This time, instead of invoking rage, Peter's taunts seemed to galvanize the Warrior. Once more he reverted to the tiger fighting style. Peter was forced to rely on his defensive skills as he moved in. looking for an opportunity to attack. Their combat continued, with another round of attacks and counters, but Peter sensed the Warrior's movements had slackened. Perhaps, within this mortal body, the Warrior felt fatigue along with the pain. As another well aimed impact took him to his knees, he wondered instead if he could possibly outlast this creature. Even slowed, the Dark Warrior was still inhumanly strong. He rolled away as far as he could to give himself some breathing room.

Then he felt it. Like a butterfly tickle that began to pulse and grow, he felt the link to his chi. Snow and the others were still with him! Almost cheering aloud at the realization, he had to check himself, knowing that the element of surprise could be critical. Let the Warrior think he was tiring. He staggered to his feet and took up a defensive posture once again, attempting to look as weak as possible while the power of so many chis began to flood into him.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

The ghostly figures in the center of the arena continued their fierce dance of death as Snow reached out to clutch and hold the chis. They floated like so many soap bubbles around her, flashing rainbow bright and fragile yet potent in their power. Some drifted away from her as she reached for them. Others clung together as if forming their own unique molecule of energy. It took all her concentration to grasp the formation once it was gathered.

She could feel her mentor's physical presence, experiencing the pain and fatigue Peter was feeling along with his mental climate--he had been fearful of failure, but now, with the rejuvenated link, he was gaining confidence. Slowly, as if charging a balloon with air, she fed the power of the joined chis into him. First, they would need to overpower the Dark Warrior. Once that was accomplished, they could draw him back to this realm where his destruction was at least a possibility.

****************************************************

The Dark Warrior came at him with a tiger rush of power but Peter was ready and poised to take on his attacker. Using his hands with lightening speed, he deflected every blow and drove home several of his own. He'd been taught the style of the Crane, the courageous moves of defense and grace that wore an opponent down. But this time, he needed more; he needed to attack to defeat this great evil. Taking advantage of several different fighting styles, Peter ceased feigning weakness and, calling on the extra power that fueled him, began to hammer at his foe.

Surprise registered in the Dark Warrior's eyes.

Then, Peter stepped swiftly back to land a savage kick to the area that most men are loath to attack, deterred by sympathy or by pure sportsmanship. Peter thought of neither as he stuck to win. This wasn't sport; this was survival. His and humanity's. Even well padded and protected, the Warrior's armor couldn't sufficiently cushion the blow. The Dark Warrior, so unused to mortal flesh, was introduced to a level of pain that transcended anything it had felt before. He dropped to his knees, eyes bulging and mouth contorted.

Peter gave him no quarter as he seized his opponent around the neck and held him, while calling on Snow to bring them back to Shambhala.

****************************************

She knew what Peter wanted; she just didn't have a clue as to how to accomplish it. Eyes closed, Snow let herself sink deeper into the meditative state to garner knowledge from the combined chis. Her view of her surroundings became clearer. She could discern the margin where one realm adjoined the other; this could be the key. She could see how the Dark Warrior had created a pocket in Shambhala to hold a small piece of his unclean realm. All she would need to do would be to release that power and it would snap back into it's rightful place, but where it would deposit the combatants would be another matter.

Two entities, vastly different from the other chis seemed to detach from the energy formation. It felt like Radar and her companion. Can you hold them?, she linked her thought to them and sensed an affirmative in reply. Tapping into the energy molecule again, but this time for herself, Snow reached to pluck at the force which held the Darkness. It burst like a bubble under her touch, then like a rubber band being released, a ricochet of power caught her up. Dazzled with it's force, she fought for control.

In the middle of the arena, the two figures suddenly solidified and sharpened into focus. Peter had the Warrior at his mercy.

***************************************

As Peter hung on to his struggling opponent, he realized they were no longer in the white battlefield. Instead, everything around them was gray and misty. He could make out dim figures all around, sitting in the lotus position. It was the monks of Shambhala. And there, beside him, festooned in streamers of clinging mist, were the wolves. They snarled at the Dark Warrior who, though still on his knees, appeared to be gaining strength with each second that passed.

"Snow?" he called, "What do we do with him?"

Hearing Kermit's curse, he glanced around to see his friend bent over a prone Snow as she writhed and jerked in seizure. In this world of gray's, they were the exception; yin and yang, the ex-merc's suit still midnight black, the keyholder dressed in shining white.

With a strangled roar, the Dark Warrior broke the choke hold, throwing Peter back to the floor as he surged to his feet. "Fools, you cannot detain me here!" the angry Warrior shouted.

It was Lo Si who stood to answer the Warrior. "Your powers are of no use to you here. This time, your defeat will be absolute."

Raging, the terrible entity aimed a blow at the old man, only to find it blocked by Master Khan. Peter watched for only seconds, amazed at his former teacher's courage as he dropped into the Crane posture to hold back the Warrior's fierce attack. Master Khan was power and grace combined, but even his strength was no match for the Dark Force. Peter leapt to his feet and joined the fray. Two against one might not be sporting, but this was no sporting match--it was to the death and there were no rules.

***************************************

"Snow! Snow! What the hell is going on!"

Sound was fuzzy but distinct enough for her to understand her husband's frantic words. Her head hurt and her vision was fogged but she could see faces that hovered over her; that of the Shambhala Master and Kermit. "She is with us still," pronounced the Master sternly.

"Mostly," she acknowledged and felt her spouse's sigh of relief.

He was holding her, she realized and she grabbed a handful of suit to pull herself into a sitting position as her vision cleared. "The Warrior...?"

"Also with us still," the Master intoned, leading with his gaze.

She turned an aching head to see Peter, Master Khan and the Dark Warrior in a three-way melee in the center of the misty arena. "We seem to have a tiger-by-the-tail situation," Kermit commented. "Got him, more or less, but no one seems to know exactly what to do with him now."

"I do."

She had no idea how she knew, but all along, she'd been following more instinct than logic or anything else. Endeavoring to stand, she shouted to Peter, "Take him! Hold him down!"

"Wait a minute," Kermit instructed, as he helped her stand, "What do you think you're doing?"

"What I'm supposed to do."

She tried to move away from him, but he held her back. "You weren't looking so hot a few minutes ago. Are you sure you can handle this?" he asked quietly.

Even in the dim world of the temple guards, the sunglasses were still in place and she briefly considered pulling them off him so she could see his eyes, but with the heightened awareness brought on by the chi link she still held, she knew what he felt already. "Just going to toss that bucket of water on him. Trust me."

He let her go then, in a move that she sensed was not so much confidence as respect. Gripping the jade pieces, she staggered toward the combatants. Peter and Khan had double teamed the Warrior, crashing into him at the same time, taking them into a huddle of thrashing bodies and flailing limbs on the arena paving. She paused, waiting for her chance.

Then she heard the soft cry of pain that came from Master Khan as he pulled back from the disorder. He cradled one arm that bled profusely as one of the Shambhala Masters came to his aid. The blood on the mouth of the Dark Warrior told a horrible story.

With only a tiring Peter to hold him, the Warrior surged to his feet, shrugging off his adversary as if he weighed only mere ounces, sending him skidding into a couple of the Masters. Eyes narrowed, he focused on his one true threat and crouched, poised to attack.

Fear gripped at Snow's stomach, cold and yet heated at the same time. She backed up as the two wolves leapt, one to each of her sides to stand snarling at the powerful Warrior who hesitated, as if reconsidering his tactics in the face of such fearsome fangs. In that moment, another Dark Warrior stepped between the Darkness and the Light. Kermit glared at the Master of Evil, challenging, "You'll have to go through me first, Darth Hai."

It almost sounded like Bon Bon Hai who answered, as if he'd been allowed back in his body to face his old enemy. "It will be my pleasure," he hissed.

Then he leapt and Kermit met him halfway, seizing the outstretched leg that aimed for his face. He flipped the Warrior back into Peter's waiting arms and the two fought viciously, grappling him down again. Waiting no longer, Snow dropped to her knees, sliding in close to slam the jade pieces to the Warrior's chest. The shock of the contact was akin to being thrown head first into a wave of hot tar. She sensed rather than felt Kermit next to her, holding her and she seized the white light of his chi, sucking it's power to hold her to her task. The jade pieces writhed in her hands as if they'd truly become the fabulous beasts they portrayed, with terrible beaks and talons that chewed deep into the core of evil.

It seemed to her that the mists rose up to cover them and she could see the Dark Warrior's body begin to shine, consumed by an imploding corona of power. Bit by bit, he began to disintegrate into shining motes of black dust that filled her vision and covered her like debris from a volcanic eruption. Her last conscious thought was that even though she'd fulfilled her destiny, she wasn't quite sure she was finished...

*******************************************************

"You did this to her--now fix her!" raged Kermit, and Peter could hear the despair and frustration that grated in the raw tones.

Kermit was pacing just outside the doorway of the little cherry tree garden court where they'd taken Snow. Two of the Masters still sat meditating by her pallet and Lo Si was tending to her also, busy with his potions. The ex-merc looked ready to tear into the Shambhala Master and Peter considered stepping in to hold his friend back, regardless of the consequences he knew he'd suffer by touching the angry man now. However, the sadness in the Master's eyes stopped him. It was almost as if the Master was offering himself as a sacrifice for that which had been done in the name of Shambhala.

"We have done all we can for her," the Master assured him.

"Then why won't she wake up?" Kermit snapped back.

The Master shook his head helplessly, bowing his head as if waiting for a blow to fall. Kermit, glared at him, fists clenched, jaw rigid, his entire posture wound tighter than a seven day clock on the first day. Without further comment, he whirled suddenly and stalked back to the tree under which Snow lay, pale and silent on the bed they'd made for her. Peter followed tiredly to sit at the foot of the pallet, while Kermit leaned on the sturdy trunk of the old tree. Peter studied his friend closely, noting how his elbows were held tight into his body, one arm circling his chest, as if holding in his emotions. The fingers of his other hand rubbed savagely at his forehead and his breathing was short and fast.

Lo Si said nothing, just pausing to gently touch Kermit's arm as he took an empty cup away. The two Masters left also, leaving just the two men and Radar who lay quietly at the head of the pallet, her creamy fur almost dark in comparison to Snow's translucent skin.

"Maybe I should take her back. Take her to a real hospital," Kermit said, as if thinking out loud.

"And tell them she's been overwhelmed by a Dark Force while channeling half a dozen chis? Would they understand that? Or just order you a backwards white shirt with buckles, extra long on the sleeves. What do you think they can do for her there that they can't do here, Kermit?" Peter asked wearily.

"Well, for one thing, they could put her in a real room with a real bed. Oxygen maybe? You saw her, Peter," he said quietly and Peter could hear the fear. "She was barely even breathing."

"She's breathing fine now, especially since they brought her out here. She loves being outside; you're the one who told me that."

"I have to do something," Kermit insisted.

"Perhaps I can be of help...."

Both started at the words that came from behind them so unexpectedly.

"Pop," Peter said as he rose, "Pop!"

He fell into his father's arms, feeling all his weariness melt away as a surge of pure joy rippled through him. If anyone could help, it would be his father, Peter told himself, hugging Caine with all his might and appreciating the fierce grasp his Pop had on him. The elder Caine was dressed in white Shambhala robes, his head still shaven. The Dali Lama's pendant dangled in it's usual place around his neck.

"I'm so glad you're here," Peter told him.

"And I am so proud of you, my son. You have accomplished a task I could not."

"It wasn't just me. I had a lot of help and now, some of that help is paying dearly for it."

Peter reluctantly let go of his father so he could see the woman who lay so still on the pallet before them. Kermit was standing there, patiently waiting for Peter to finish his greeting.

"I see you, also, have finally found your destiny," Caine noted.

"You must have been talking to Lo Si," Kermit replied. "But, I'll grant you, she's special. Puts up with quite a lot. Women like that don't come along every day. Anything you can do, Caine, will be appreciated."

Caine nodded and, after a small bow, he went to kneel on the ground next to Snow. His hands moved gently as he examined her, sometimes touching her, sometimes just skimming above her as he sampled her aura. Finally, he seemed satisfied and sat, lotus position, taking her pallid hand in his. "She has no wish to leave you," he assured Kermit. "Please go and rest. Take some food. This will take some time and requires composure within and without to be successful. I will come to you when I have finished."

Kermit seemed hesitant so Peter put a tentative arm around his shoulders, encouraging him to move away. "Let my Pop work his magic. He wouldn't say he could help if he couldn't."

Kermit took a couple of steps with Peter and then, shrugging him off, went back to kneel next to Caine, bending over to whisper something in Snow's ear before he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

Radar got up to follow as they went inside, but stopped to lay at the doorway when a single, silent look from her master commanded her to stand guard. "I don't suppose they make coffee here," Kermit grumbled, looking around as if searching for a kitchen. "Probably just tea and I'm betting it's that herbal crap without caffeine."

"I'll take anything," Peter vowed, "as long as it wasn't brewed by Lo Si."

As if summoned by the mention of his name, Lo Si came around one of the pillars, beckoning them. "There is a place where you can rest and eat. Please, follow me."

They followed slowly, wearily walking down a short flight of stairs, holding to the wall where there was no handrail. "You look like I feel," Kermit commented, as they reached the next floor.

Smiling weakly, Peter acknowledged, "Thanks. You look worse than I feel. Of course, it's not every day you get half your chi sucked out to defeat the Ultimate Evil, so it's understandable. That and the fact you weren't so pretty to start with."

The almost-there grin was evidence of the confidence Kermit placed in Caine's abilities, allowing him to relax a bit. The Ancient led them to a small alcove set with sleeping pallets and a low table with covered dishes and steaming tea already poured. "Did you know my Pop was coming?" Peter asked the old man as he sat down on a soft cushion.

Lo Si shook his head. "Not specifically. He is a Shambhala Master and no doubt could feel the vibrations of trouble even in our world. But he was...detained on a mission of his own. I am certain he came as soon as he could."

"Let's hope it was soon enough," Kermit muttered.

Peter felt too tired to even try to assure his friend further that Snow would recover. At that moment, the Master of Shambhala appeared, moving so silently, he almost seemed to glide over the paving stones of the temple. Lo Si rose and offered him tea which he waved off. "Although this is not the best of times to broach this subject, I feel I must make this offer so you may think on it while you rest, Young Caine. As is your right, for defeating the Dark Warrior, we are prepared to offer you the honor and title of Shambhala Master. You have proven yourself most worthy of the responsibility."

Peter felt a wave of anger pass through him. As if that was his purpose all along? Not hardly. He'd done what needed to be done at the time. But the price that Shambhala placed on 'membership' to their exclusive brethren seemed too high to him. He looked over at Kermit who had swung from almost ready to fall asleep over his tea, back to full-boil rage. His friend had been thoroughly manipulated by the Masters. Worse yet, Snow had been more than manipulated; she'd been tampered with on a grand scale. Shambhala took what it needed and chewed it up as it deemed necessary, spitting people out like peach pits.

"No."

The Master looked shocked and Lo Si ducked his head in a vain attempt at saving face.

"Perhaps you should consider..." the Master started, but Peter cut him off.

"I have considered. And I consider that your part in this, stinks. You're very good at looking at the big picture, but the little pictures, the individual lives count ,too. Each individual contributes to the whole. My father taught me that when I was very young and he taught me to value people always, not use them. So no, I'm not interested in your offer. I am Shaolin, I tread the same path that my grandfather trod, and his father before him and I will serve as needed but I will not join your little clique of meddlers."

The Master of Shambhala looked very angry. "I remind you that your father is part of our society."

"That's true, He has the right to follow his own destiny. I know my father; I'm certain he would never have taken the steps that you have taken. He'd never let another fight his battles, never ask another to do what he was unwilling to do himself."

The Master bowed. "As you wish. The offer remains."

He turned and drifted silently away.

Peter turned to Lo Si. "Don't you dare start on me," he demanded.

Lo Si shook his head. "I would not presume. It was, of course, your decision to make. I will leave you to your rest now."

Then he too left.

Peter looked at Kermit, somewhat astonished. "He didn't argue. Didn't even quote some inscrutable old and irrelevant philosopher."

Kermit shrugged. "I'm not surprised. You even had me scared. I wouldn't have argued. But, I have to wonder if you really did the right thing."

Peter looked at him as he lifted his bowl of tea. "To steal a phrase, oh, yeah."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

"Hi, Stranger. Have a good trip?" Peter asked as he took Jody's carry-on bag from her and dropped a light kiss on her lips.

"This is a surprise."

"Told you I'd pick you up."

"Yeah, well, yesterday when I called your cell, I got no answer. Mary Margaret hinted you were on some trip of your own when I called her; someplace way out of the service area, but she wasn't specific."

He took her arm to guide her towards the baggage claim, walking slowly to one side of the hall, avoiding the bustling crowds of busy travelers. "Oh, that. Just a little inter-dimensional jaunt to defeat the Ultimate Evil. You know, saving the world as we know it kinda thing. Nothing much."

"Uh huh. Why do I get the feeling you're leaving out all the good stuff?"

He shrugged. "I'm Shaolin. I'm supposed to be cryptic."

She stopped dead and gave him a disgusted look that made him laugh out loud. "Okay, guess I can work on my 'cryptic' later. Let's just say I was on retreat in Shambhala and that Bon Bon Hai won't be a problem in Chinatown any more."

"You killed Hai in Shambhala?"

He pushed her to walk on. "Not quite. But what's left of him is someplace he can't escape and he has no physical body anymore even if he could get out."

"Well, my hero. I think I'd rather not hear the details. Might be too much of a stretch for my rational cop's mind. Although you must be feeling pretty good about this, Champion of the world as we know it and all."

Peter felt the distress and knew it was showing on his face. "It was a group effort and the price was pretty high."

She stopped again and made him face her. "Who and how bad?"

"Master Khan is very ill and Snow is...well, we're uncertain. Kermit is still there with her."

"Must be hell for Kermit. God, Peter, I was just telling him the other day that he should make sure she knows how he feels about her. What if it's too late?"

"I hope it won't be. There's some good news, though. My Pop is back. He's there in Shambhala, helping Snow, as is the Ancient. He seems to think she'll pull through eventually, although he's doing that Shaolin cryptic thing better than I do."

"Huh."

She took his arm again and they continued down the hall. Peter got the feeling that she wasn't quite thrilled with the news of his father's return. "Now who's being cryptic?" he asked her gently. "Want to explain that last 'huh'?"

She shrugged. "Sometimes your Pop isn't so cryptic. He was pretty blunt when he told me once that you'd never return what I feel for you and that I should find someone else."

"How come I never heard about this? When did he say that?"

"That time you said his chi was poisoned."

"My Pop may be Shaolin and a Shambhala Master, but he's still human and humans make mistakes. He was pretty sick at the time and may not really have known what he was saying, Jody."

"He sounded pretty sure to me. I'm not sure he'll be happy about...us."

"So, does this mean you've decided there should be an 'us'?"

They had reached the baggage carousel, so she put both arms around his neck, gazing into his eyes. "I think we owe it to ourselves to try and see how it goes. There's a lot of things I'm unsure of, but one thing I am sure of is that I care deeply about you."

Her words pleased him more than he could express. She was being realistic without making promises or expecting any from him. Dropping her carry-on, he pulled her tight into his embrace, telling her, "I'm not afraid or ashamed to use the word love, Jody. I do love you. Whether or not it's the kind of love that can support this kind of relationship, I don't know either, but you are right. We do owe it to ourselves to find out."

Then he kissed her the way he'd been wanting to.

****************************************

There was a soft, cool breeze blowing as the sun rose higher in the sky, but even at it's zenith, the Shambhala sun was comfortably warm as if ordained by the Masters themselves to only shine just so hot and just so bright and never too much of either.

"Camelot."

Kwai Chang Caine looked up from his meditations at Kermit. "Did you say something?"

"Sorry. Didn't mean to disturb you," Kermit apologized as he sat up from where he'd been reclining in the grass, soaking up the sun. "Just occurred to me that this place could be the inspiration for Camelot. Seems like the weather is made to order."

Caine shrugged. "The Masters of Shambhala inhabit this particular realm for their convenience. Inclement weather could be detrimental to their studies. Their purpose is the preservation of light and truth, not to struggle with life as we must."

"But you're a Shambhala Master too, Caine," Kermit pointed out.

"I am. However, a single daisy, while remaining true to its species has its own distinct nature. Experience has shaped my being; we see the same truth, but through different eyes. I am not the same as they are."

"That's too true," agreed Kermit, as he shifted position, reaching to take Snow's limp hand as he had a thousand times or more in the past few days. "You fight. They don't. Or won't. And I get the feeling you would have never put all your eggs in one fragile, precious basket."

Gently, he lifted her hand and brushed a soft kiss on it.

"They do what they believe they must. I do not make excuses for them. I merely see both points of view."

"Peter took the same line, but he didn't care much for their view and made a point of not choosing to join your little clan."

Caine smiled. "Peter is an altogether different flower. He also refused to be Shaolin many times, but eventually claimed his destiny. However, I do not believe he will ever take the mantle of a Shambhala Master. His journey leads him elsewhere and he must tread his own path."

"I got the same impression. He's his own man. I'll do you both a favor and won't tell him you were comparing him to a flower."

At that moment, Snow's hand twitched in his and he sat up, the better to see her still form. "She moved again."

Caine leaned over to look at her carefully, running his hands through the air above her. "She still sleeps."

"Caine, it's been three days. How much longer will she sleep?"

Caine shrugged. "I do not know. She will wake when you are both ready."

"I don't understand what this has to do with me. I'm ready. I've been ready. What do you expect me to do?"

"Talk to her," Caine suggested and he rose gracefully. "She will hear you, even though she sleeps. I must go and check on Master Khan now."

He drifted quietly away.

"Talk?" Kermit said, more to himself than to Snow. "Okay, I can do that. Did I ever tell you about the time..."

He talked non-stop for hours, stopping only when there was another present and for food as it was brought to him. Finally, when the sun was lowering, he slipped onto the pallet to hold her close and whispered, "Listen to me: 'Lady, as you are mine, I am yours. I give away myself for you, and dote upon the exchange.' That was Shakespeare, babe. I know I told you I didn't do Shakespeare. I told you I didn't even believe in love anymore, but I lied. To both you and to myself. Just didn't want to admit it; didn't want to be vulnerable. Saw it as weakness. I was wrong. It's a strength; you've shown me that. So be strong for both of us; wake up for me, babe. Wake up and let me tell you how I really feel, because I don't want to be some pathetic idiot saying those words when it's too late."

He felt her take a deep breath and then, as she exhaled, she spoke so quietly, he could barely hear her. "More..."

Something fluttered in his chest and his stomach did a barrel roll. Please don't let her be talking in her sleep, he begged silently. His voice caught slightly as he asked, "More what, babe?"

She spoke louder, evidence of her waxing strength, "Shakespeare. I like the way you say it."

Her eyes fluttered open and she turned her head to find him, giving him a lazy smile that warmed him deeper than any sun ever could.

"Okay, how about 'I am your spaniel..The more you beat me, I will fawn on you...'."

She stopped him with a weak giggle and her soft, little hand tenderly on his lips. "You, a spaniel, Griffin? I don't think so."

"Then perhaps as a tragic king? A little Othello? 'Perdition catch my soul, But I do love thee! and when I love thee not, Chaos is come again.'"

She shook her head. "No, no tragedy here. Only happily ever after for us, love."

He was careful not to hold her as tightly as he craved, as he needed, to convince himself she was truly back. "I was afraid it was going to end up a tragedy. Thought I'd lost you for good this time."

"Told you before I'm not letting you off the hook that easy. So tell me what happened."

"First, tell me how you're feeling."

She shifted under the cover as if taking inventory of her moving parts. "Stiff. Sore. Tired, but it all seems to be working fine."

"Good. Now, what do you remember?"

"Just that I put the pendant on the Dark Warrior and let it...eat him. Everything is a blank after that. He's gone for good this time, isn't he?" she asked.

"The Masters seem to think so. The pendant was destroyed along with the Dark Warrior. Nothing left but fine dust. Made a fine mess of my suit too, but I did get to blow part of him away at least, now that I think of it."

"Bon Bon Hai?"

"Trapped according to our brighter than bright hosts. Nothing left of him but his chi in that vase you saw. You could say he's got no-body to go home to."

That made her smile again, so he kissed her as earnestly as he dared, but was interrupted by a raspy wolf tongue that was followed immediately with over a hundred pounds of solid wolf trying to climb onto the pallet with them.

"Radar!" Snow said, delightedly stroking her pet. "You have been quite the surprise, you Shambhala spook. You aren't really a wolf, are you?"

Radar, whoever and whatever she was, merely slobbered over both of those she obviously loved. Kermit sent her to fetch the smiling Ancient who came with Caine, bringing potions, herbs, teas and food for the couple.

After she was fed and fell asleep again, Kermit lay contentedly next to her under blazing Shambhala stars, in their pink blossomed bower, caressed with a soft breeze that smelled of cherry blossom and serenaded by the trill of crickets in the sun-warmed grass. Finally at peace, his worried mind and exhausted body fell into a deeply nourishing sleep. Sometime during the night she woke him and they made sweet, gentle love under a brilliant sweep of Shambhala Aurora that echoed their bliss in a pallet of colors never before seen in the mystic realm.

***********************************************

"I brought Kermit a change of clothing," Peter explained to his Pop, as he stepped into the mystic realm carrying a common shopping bag.

"Couldn't see him in Shambhala robes and figured he'd be ready for something a bit more comfortable."

The Master who had aided Peter's transfer bowed to Kwai Chang Caine before he left the room. "I do not believe he will need that now," Caine told his son. "They are ready to go home. As am I."

Peter hesitated, "Perhaps you'd better clarify where home is at this point."

"With you, my son. If you will have me."

Peter let loose the joy he'd been holding in check. "If? If? I was trying to find the right words to persuade you to come back with me. Thought I was going to have to pretend to be in desperate need of your aid."

"You do not need me?"

The words, so simply framed, were charged with meaning. Peter could see the gleam in his father's eyes. He took up the challenge. "No. I do not 'need' you. I'm well able to care for myself and to fulfill my duties as a Shaolin priest in Chinatown. I 'want' you there and, for that reason, I need you; as I have always needed my father."

Caine's beaming smile was brighter than any gold medal ever awarded, obviously pleased by Peter's response. "You have indeed grown, my son. I will be proud to join your temple group."

He reached to give his father a hug, but then realized there was another of his little group unaccounted for. "Pop...Dad. Master Khan. Is he all right? Can he come home too?"

Caine looked sober. "I fear his wound is still not completely cured. It defies even the Ancient's most powerful medicines. But I think it would be safe to take him back to recuperate with us. He will require careful supervision to heal properly."

"So, what about Snow? Is she 100 percent or is she going to require more care also?"

"She is fine, but will need more rest before she returns to her work. However, she too, can go home."

"I bet Kermit is ready for that."

"Indeed. As are the Masters," Caine added with a small smile. "They do not appear to be...enthralled with their Dark Warrior for the Light. He...challenges their ideals, their philosophy, and their methodology. I believe he has even made comment on their fashion sense."

Peter laughed aloud. "That, I'd like to have witnessed. Perhaps we'd better go get them before he tries to pull off a bloodless coup."

They went to the little courtyard to find Snow reclining, head propped up with one hand, stroking Radar who was curled contentedly on the pallet with her, in the shade of the cherry tree. Kermit sat with the Master of Shambhala, engrossed in what appeared to be a very heated discussion. On the ground, between them, was a small, red silk box.

"...and I'm saying this is over. Finished. Your precious realm is safe along with the universe as we know it. We've lived up to our 'destinies' as you put it," Kermit insisted. "now, we're done. Find yourself some new patsys."

"You are what you are," the Master intoned, "until the day you are no longer. So it is written."

"I don't care if it's graven in stone on two tablets delivered by Moses. We are no longer at your beck and call."

Caine touched Peter's arm and Peter shook his head, unwilling to interfere. He'd had his own say with the Shambhala Master. This was Kermit's business. So it was the elder Caine who stepped forward to ask, "Is there a problem?"

"No," snapped Kermit.

"Yes," answered the Shambhala Master. "They refuse the Keys."

He gestured to the box between them, lifting the lid to reveal two interlocked jade pieces, black and white; identical to those which had destroyed the Dark Warrior.

Caine looked not to Kermit, but to Snow for an answer. She sat up, boldly facing him and shook her head. "I can't."

"Can not, or will not?" Caine asked quietly.

Kermit interrupted angrily, "Leave her alone, Caine. She's had enough."

He faced Kermit, searching his face as if looking for more than he could sense. "It is her choice, not your's," he finally replied as if deciding he could press the angry man that far.

Kermit surged to his feet, stepping into Caine's personal space, just inches from him without touching; just enough to imply a threat. "That's where you're wrong. I'm the Dark Warrior for the Light, remember. It's my responsibility to protect her; even from you and the rest of the Ku Klux Shambhala Klan."

Peter felt a cold chill run up his spine as he watched two people whom he cared about deeply square off for a fight. Perhaps it was time to step in. Perhaps they'd listen to him. He cleared his throat and began to walk towards the silent adversaries, but Snow got there first. Pushing the two apart, she put her back to her partner to face Caine. "I can't, Master Caine. I can't because I can't wield them anymore. I can't... feel what I did before. I can't feel anything."

Both Caine and the Shambhala Master looked surprised. Kermit put his arms around her protectively as Caine reached out to touch her, stroking her hair and face as he peered into her eyes. Then, taking both of her hands in his, he closed his eyes. Peter could almost see the vibrations emanating from his father, feeling them throb in his chest and making his ears buzz uncomfortably. But Snow stood quietly, apparently unaffected. At last Caine opened his eyes and looked at the master who sat quietly, waiting. "She is correct. She is no longer able."

The Master picked up the box, and announced sadly, "Then, there is no other."

He turned, walking past Peter and went into the temple.

As Peter approached he heard his father apologize, "I am sorry for pressing you. I had not sensed the extent of the demand that has been done to you."

Snow elbowed her mate and Kermit looked chagrined. "I'm sorry, too. It's probably just as well, though. My qualifications for being the Dark Warrior for the Light were tenuous at best. Even your kid here can probably kick my butt."

Peter pointed a finger at him. "I heard that and I'm going to throw it in your face at every possible opportunity."

"Yeah, well, don't forget, where we live, my gun works just fine, Young Caine. Speaking of which, are we ready to go now? I'm in desperate need of technology."

Caine nodded. "I will go and help Master Khan to the Great Hall. The Ancient will meet us there."

He turned away to go back inside as Snow slipped from the protective arms that had held her. "Do you have a knife?" she asked Kermit.

"Does the sun always shine in Shambhala? Should Blake's coffee carry a health warning? How about this?" he asked as he retrieved a rather large Bowie knife from under his pant leg.

"That will do," answered Snow, taking it and walking away.

"Whoa! Does Crocodile Dundee know you have his knife?" Peter asked, "and would you mind telling me where that was when the Dark Warrior had a stranglehold on my neck?"

"For too many years I fought in dirty little wars where a human life wasn't worth the price of a single bullet. I decided a long time ago that even my greatest enemy deserved a little dignity. Butchery is for animals, not people; I kill clean. Besides, for the Dark Warrior, I think I'd have needed a chainsaw."

Snow came back with a small cutting from the cherry tree that had sheltered her so many days.

"Think that will grow in our world?" Peter asked her.

She smiled mysteriously. "Oh, yeah."


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Kwai Chang Caine walked silently though the upper rooms of the brownstone, nodding his head now and then as if mentally noting every change. Gripped with tension, Peter followed him, waiting to see what his father would say.

Finally Caine faced him. "It is very much you, my son. You have made it your home."

Nervously, Peter offered, "We can change it back if you really don't like it.."

"No, it is your's to do with as you wish. I will take the room next to Master Khan, if I may? Reopening the Kwoon was an excellent idea."

"Well, I'm no apothecary, Pop...Dad. I'm a fighter."

The Ancient looked up from where he'd been storing the rare herbs he'd brought back from Shambhala. "This is true, Kwai Chang Caine. Your son does not have your talent. So he has made his own way, according to his ability."

"It is a wise man who knows his own limitations and you have acted wisely. What would you have me do here to help?" Caine asked.

"I'm certain Lo Si would not refuse your help here with the Apothecary and, until Master Khan is back on his feet, perhaps you could help with the children's Tai Chi classes?" Peter suggested.

"I would be honored."

His bow made Peter feel a little uncomfortable, but he returned the gesture. To lighten the moment, he teased, "Getting a little formal in our old age, are we Pop?"

Peter anticipated the slap, but the hand that had shot out arrow quick was laid gently on his cheek instead. Then his father pulled him into a intense embrace, whispering in his ear, "Do not call me Pop!"

At that moment Wah Chen brought tea and the three men sat down together to relax and sip their tea while they brought Caine up to date on what had been happening in Chinatown since his departure. As Peter told how he had taken up his new responsibilities in the community, he noticed that although his father was listening intently, he appeared to be troubled. Finally, he asked, "What's bothering you?"

Caine sighed, "You have not asked me about my journey even though it is foremost in your thoughts."

His father was correct; he wanted to know, but was reluctant to ask. "If it's one thing I've learned from you, Father, it's that you'll tell me what you want me to know when you think I'm ready to hear it."

He put an affectionate hand to his father's shoulder, rewarded by his father's tender smile, a pat on his hand and the promise, "I will, my son. Soon."

As Chen hurried back to the kitchen for more hot water, a sweet, husky voice echoed down the hall. "Peter, are you back?"

"In here, Jody," he called as he stood up to greet her.

The smile on her face dimmed somewhat as she saw they were not alone. "Welcome back, Master Caine. Lo Si."

She added a small bow that pleased Peter with it's thoughtfulness. Caine stood also, but the Ancient took advantage of his age status to stay seated, greeting Jody instead with a small bow of his head. Peter thought the old man appeared tired.

Taking Jody's hands in a two-fisted grip of welcome, Caine said, "It is good to see you again. We are having tea. Would you care to join us?"

"Thank you, yes, I'd like that."

She took a seat and Peter perched on the arm of her chair, hovering over her like a guardian angel as they chatted. At length, a remark made by his father seemed to move the conversation in the direction Peter needed.

"I am grateful that his friends at the precinct have stayed in such close contact with Peter. It must have been very difficult for him to change his daily habits. Not charging about madly, rushing to get to work on time."

There was the tiniest suggestion of a smile on his father's face as he teased, so Peter took advantage of his good humor. "Well, in Jody's case, we've been in somewhat closer contact. Jody and I have started a relationship, Dad."

Peter was rarely able to surprise his father, but this time, he was sure it was complete. He could tell in the upraised eyebrows and the slight cocking of the head. Lo Si grinned broadly, nodding his head. Jody looked up at him, nervously, he thought. He squeezed her shoulder to reassure her.

"Ah, you are...'an item.' Then more than the furnishings has changed in my absence. I am not sure if I should congratulate you, Jody. Peter is often…hard on his lady friends."

"Tell me about it. I've been taking notes all this time, Master Caine and I assure you, I've learned from the best of them. I just hope you don't mind..."

Caine waved his hand as if dismissing her fears. "It is not my place. I welcome you as I have welcomed all those who have seen fit to share their time and affection with my son, unworthy as he is."

There was still humor gleaming in those eyes and Peter basked in the warmth that his father felt for him. Jody set her teacup down, saying, "I have an early shift tomorrow and crime never seems to sleep in late."

"Let me walk you out," Peter insisted, taking her by the hand. "I'll be back in a minute," he said over his shoulder as they walked to the door.

"We will not wait up," came his father's reply.

Peter stopped for a second and, pulling his cell phone from it's case on his belt, he tossed it to his father who snatched it easily from the air. Caine looked questioningly at his son. "It's time you learned to use one. I think I remember you saying something about needing to call someone? Mary Margaret, perhaps? Her speed dial number is 9."

"I can show you how to use this, Kwai Chang Caine. I have one of my own," offered the Ancient eagerly.

Caine looked resistant for a second but then sighed deeply as he handed it to his mentor. "In that case, Peter, I suggest you not wait up for me."

******************************************

He was where he always was, at the computer in his den, the white wolf at his feet and the monitor reflecting the same green as his glasses. Snow wandered in and sat in her favorite spot, on his desk, waiting for him to give her his full attention. When he did look up at her, it was to smile and seize her about the waist, dragging her onto his lap to kiss her enthusiastically.

"My goodness, that was invigorating. Did you take out the porno website subscription after all?"

"No, just checking for the gestation period of canines. Assuming that Radar's physical makeup would match that of normal canines," Kermit said.

"I could have told you that; 63 to 65 days. Most of my last team were her pups, but she hasn't gone into heat for a long time and I thought maybe she was beyond that now. Much like myself."

"Not according to Lo Si."

"That's a bit personal, on his part. I may have to talk to him..."

"Not you. He was talking about Radar."

"What about Radar?"

"We had a little chat at Caine's place after the Masters dropped us off, which by the way, I don't see why they couldn't have just brought us directly here since they do know the way..."

"Maybe it was because you threatened them if they ever showed up in your den again? Focus, dear. Exactly what did Lo Si say about Radar?"

"He said we should expect puppies."

"What?"

"Puppies. Small furry things with sharp teeth, dribbling piddle everywhere..."

"I know what the hell they are, but how?"

He gave her a look and opened his mouth, but she quickly put her hand up to stop him. "Okay, don't give me a lecture on the basics. We both know I'm well covered in that area. That...beast wasn't even a wolf much less a canine. At least I don't think so."

"Whatever it was, they were apparently very compatible."

"You don't suppose Lo Si could be mistaken...okay, forget I said that."

He looked serious for a second, his brows knotted with a paint-peeling frown. "Look, I'm the last person to take what Lo Si says on pure faith. He's a master at twisting the truth. In this case, I can't see any reason for him to lie, exaggerate or prevaricate, so I'm willing to believe he's correct. For now."

"What do you suppose those pups will look like?" Snow mused, half to herself as she watched her pet snoozing quietly at their feet.

"Probably just like wolves if they're as smart as I think they are. Looks like Shambhala has managed to have its way with all of us, one way or another."

His words chilled her for a second. "We played out our destinies, sweetheart. It's all over," she assured him.

"I know. Seems my nightmares are over too, since our little vacation."

"That would probably count as a good thing, don't you think?"

"Oh, yeah."

"You know," she said to him, feeling the need to take his mind off the mystic realm, "since I don't have those extended Shambhala senses any more, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you for a little more verbal expression of your feelings now and then."

"You mean you want to hear some of that mushy love stuff?"

"In your own words, if you don't mind. Shakespeare is okay now and then, but, let's face it, that old iambic pentameter just isn't you."

"How about this?" he asked and then whispered something in her ear.

She giggled, "I can see we're going to have to work on the difference between mushy and filthy, Mr. Griffin. But that will do nicely for a start, depending on your follow-through."

A few taps at the keyboard sent the monitor to sleep and he rose, carrying her in his arms. "Not only are my follow-throughs superb, but my encores are magnificent."

 

"Braggart. I'll be the judge of that."

"Ah, I've always wanted to bribe a judge."

"As opposed to threatening one?"

"I'm not above either, as the individual case requires..."

As he carried her away, the white wolf rolled over to lazily stretch, then went to find the cats to keep her company instead.

**************************************

He was drifting. At first, he'd been terrified, experiencing no sensations, no physical feelings, no concept of time. As he explored the void, he began to understand how it was to be pure energy, to inhabit his chi instead of his body. Soon, he realized he was connected somehow to his Master still, that he was the Dark Warrior too. He watched, impotent, as the Warrior made his bid for power...and felt when his Master was destroyed.

Panic was his first reaction. They had destroyed his physical body the same time they defeated the Warrior! Life as he had known it was gone for all time. Considering his plight at length, he came to realize he had a new kind of life. And there was power here, too, for him to tap into; a Dark Force that could never be quenched--for without the Darkness, how could there be Light?

He experimented with it, using it to reach for his minion back in the corporal realm, seeking a conductor. Ah, yes! The jade rings he'd presented to Jack Wong and his wife on their marriage; lucky jade that held magic and mystery in it's depths. He found the conduit for his evil influence. That would do nicely......

***************************************

Jack Wong stroked carefully at his hair, moving an errant lock back into place and then straightened his tie in the mirror. He was looking fine tonight, he decided, now that the bruises had faded. Grabbing watch and wallet, he strode from his bedroom on his way to the Agrippa Club where a certain dancer was going to get lucky tonight, he assured himself.

On his dresser, discarded like his young bride, the jade ring that was his wedding gift from Bon Bon Hai shone with an inner glow. It was a winking beacon that went unheeded in the dark.

***********************************

It was late, but Ahn Li found herself unable to sleep yet again. Her life was still in a shambles and she longed for direction. She lit a stick of incense on her bedroom altar and composed herself to meditate. Breathing deeply, she let herself drift into a deeply relaxed state.

As she drifted, she felt a strong will, a depth of purpose take hold of her. She had been ignoring the possibilities! She was a fool to let life pass her by this way, shopping, socializing and playing at living. There were things to do, things to acquire, power to take and hold! And Caine. Peter Caine had rejected her, treated her like she was dirt beneath his feet. Someone should teach him a lesson...

She broke from the trance with a new fire deep inside her. Rising she began to pace like a caged tiger, twisting her jade wedding ring on her right ring finger, not noticing it had taken on a new glow. Finally she sat down to a computer terminal and began to outline a plan.

**************************************

It was early. Kwai Chang Caine stood on the balcony, breathing deep the scent of the city. He felt, rather than heard, his son behind him.

Peter's voice was quiet. "I asked you last time if we had finally defeated the Ultimate Evil and last time you just shrugged and said you did not know. Should I ask again?"

Caine waited until Peter moved to stand next to him. "Only ask if you do not know the answer, but be prepared for what you may hear."

Peter smiled. "What? Another I do not know?"

Gesturing toward the rising sun, Caine told him, "As there must be Darkness in order to have Light so there must be evil in order that we may know goodness. Balance, yin and yang; it is the way of all things."

Peter put a companionable arm around his father's shoulders. "Someone else will rise up to try to take over Bon Bon Hai's place."

Caine nodded. "As sure as there is the sunrise."

"I really hate it when you're right."

Together, father and son united, they watched the day begin.

******************************************************

He took a deep breath before knocking at her door. The blinds were up; she knew it was him. At her call, he entered to find her standing behind her desk. Her hair was just slightly askew, as if it had been tugged on by little fingers and on her stodgy little striped suit's lapel, there was a tiny spot of something he'd rather not examine too closely. Behind her, on the credenza, was a new picture, framed and matted in soft pink, prominently placed.

"Welcome back, Detective. I take it Snow is better today?"

"Oh yeah. She'll be back to work on Monday. Could probably go back today but I decided to get anal this time."

Karen sat down and gestured towards her guest chairs. He dropped into the one closest to the door. "This time?" she asked, "You say that like you think this is a new experience for you."

"I'm thorough, not anal, but she called me anal this morning and I decided if I was going to get the label, I'd wear it proudly. As for my unscheduled absence..."

"You were on assignment. Bon Bon Hai kidnapped you and held you for several days. That's the official stance, Detective. Please make sure your report jives with everyone else's or I'll be forced to get a little anal myself."

"Does this mean hazard pay?"

"Don't push it."

"Fine. I'll settle for overtime."

She glared at him and he threw up his hands as if to ward off her frown.

"Just to make sure my report jives. They'd ask questions if I didn't put in for it."

"All right. Anything else? I got Peter's version already. Do you have something to add?"

"Something on a different track. Ah...concerning me and babies.."

"You don't have to explain, Kermit."

"Please, I need to say this and I'd like you to hear it. I want you to know that it has nothing to do with you or us or what might have been; just my past cropping up again. Over there, in those little Third World countries, human life is cheap. A man will run to save his goat before he'll save his kids because he can always have more kids but goats are valuable. The children are the most often disregarded victims of wars. It's very easy to bomb a country from a few thousand feet in the air. Mercenary work takes you in close to the action. You see the effects of those bombs up close and personal. I've seen...things no one should have to see. Things done to the most helpless of all by accident or worse, on purpose."

He could see the sorrow in her eyes. Or perhaps, it was pity. Whatever, he hated it, but forced himself to continue. "It might surprise you to know that I've done my bit to contribute to the human gene pool. Both times, by accident, but I don't call myself a father since I never raised either of them. I can understand your need to be a parent. I'm glad you're happy and glad you have someone in your life who will be there for you; someone you can take care of--I certainly couldn't have filled that void. It's obvious you had that need, that destiny to fulfill. Obvious too, that it would have torn us apart eventually. I've had to say goodbye to too many friends. I don't know how I'd survive losing a child. I couldn't risk that."

"You'd risk your life, but not your emotions?"

He winced at that one. She never did pull her punches. "Emotional cowardice. Not a noble trait, but it's part of me and I accept it. I don't think you could."

"Possibly not. But I would like us to at least be friends, Kermit."

"As far as I'm concerned, we are. Within limits. You're still my boss."

"Is that the limit? I'm just your boss?"

"That and we have a past and I have a new partner. She knows I don't give my allegiance easily. You're a good cop and you've always had my respect. That's the best I can do right now, Karen."

He called her by her first name to make it personal, hoping she'd understand.

She nodded her head slowly. "Then, I guess I'll have to accept that, Kermit. I'll warn you, I may have to occasionally subject you to my daughter visiting here."

He shrugged. "I see babies everyday. I just don't play Uncle Kermit with them."

"Fair enough; I won't ask you to. I will ask for your report on my desk by the end of the day. All the other pertinent reports are available in the data base for you to reference."

He stood up to leave. "By the way, what happened to the mirror and Jack Wong?"

She shook her head. "We finally went into the warehouse and found it. Jack wasn't there, and oddly, my nanny couldn't pick him out of a line-up the next day, so he's back to being a pillar of the community. The mirror was returned to the museum, unharmed and the Chinese government took possession of it that same day. However, I heard on the news this morning that there was a freak electrical storm last night; localized--just at the airport. Seems one lightening strike hit as some valuable Chinese antiquities were being loaded onto a plane. Only thing damaged was a very old Tang mirror. Blasted to bits. Guess that means no more trips through the looking glass for you and Snow."

He leaned back on the door jamb, arms crossed as a chill went through him. "Can even control the weather here, those bastards," he muttered. "Well, that's one less portal. Too bad there are more."

She looked at him inquisitively. He shrugged. "I took the liberty of browsing their library while I was there. I'm not great with Pali script but I can get by. There are half a dozen other portals but I'm certain we won't be using them. Although I do understand that Lo Si has made a claim against Hai's estate for a stolen book he wants returned. By the way, come up with a name for young 'Working Title' yet?"

Simms smiled broadly. "We chose Chloe. She seemed to approve. What do you think?"

"Trendy yet traditional. Means child of the earth. Grounded in reality; wouldn't mind a little of that myself. I'd better get to that report. Anything else?"

"Just this."

She leaned back in her chair to retrieve a cellophane packet from a desk drawer, sliding it across her desk to him. "Tell Snow I appreciated the honor."

He picked up the freshly dry cleaned tie, looking it over carefully. Not a trace of blood remained. "I'm missing something here, aren't I?" he asked her.

She smiled enigmatically. "Oh yeah."

The End


End file.
